In Search of a Blissful Night's Sleep
by willwrite4fics
Summary: When London gives the team some days off, Newkirk starts sleepwalking. Can they stop him and figure out why?
1. Chapter 1

Hello! I've been working on this one for some time. I hope that you enjoy. It should have quite a few chapters.

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Hogan dropped down the last rung of their ladder into the tunnel and made his way to the radio desk. "Hey Kinch, got anything interesting?" Kinch shook his head while decoding a message. Since Hogan could hear the BBC reports being played at a very low volume he stepped further into the alcove. He found their Englishman seated next to the table, head down listening to the broadcast. "Any good news on there, Newkirk?"

The Brit snapped the radio off and crushed a cigarette butt out before rising. "Same reports, bloody Germans bombing London and the Royal Air Force trying to down their planes as they leave. Ruddy bastards." Newkirk shifted past Hogan in the narrow doorway and made his way towards his tailoring area. "Going to work on uniforms."

Hogan let out a soft sigh. "Kinch?"

"He's fine, sir. None of us would be chatty if we knew the Krauts were dropping bombs on the States." Kinch held up a few scraps of paper. "Nothing is up for us for a few days at least. London is quiet and the Underground doesn't have much on tap that we can help with."

"We can use a few days off. All of us, we've been run ragged for a month now." Hogan looked through the slips for form. "Tell the guys to make some blank documents so we have a stock to choose from. Newkirk and LeBeau can work on some extra uniforms..." He wagged a finger a moment as he thought. "Which ones did we have to ditch two weeks ago? Have them check and make new ones to replace those SS uniforms we had to throw in the river." He grinned at Kinch. "That should keep most of them busy."

Kinch raised an eyebrow at the Colonel. "Well, you didn't give me anything to keep me busy."

"That's because you don't get into crazy trouble and cause mayhem when you're not busy. You just nap." Hogan put a hand onto the radioman's shoulder and gave him a shake. "You're like an old man, Kinch."

"You guys are all turning me into an old man, trying to keep up with all your crazy plans and sitting here hoping that you're going to make it back in one piece." Kinch pointed at his head. "Do you see any grey hairs? I think I saw a grey hair yesterday."

Hogan laughed softly. "Yeah yeah. You'll survive. Try to keep an eye that Carter doesn't start experimenting though, would you? I'd prefer to not spend the few days off digging out from another tunnel collapse. And Klink is starting to get suspicious of my excuses for the explosions."

"You'll think up new ones." Kinch switched the radio off. "That's the last of it. The guys will be happy to have a few days off to rest up."

"Yeah, just a few though. I don't want them getting bored and antsy." Hogan headed back to the barracks entrance. "I'll tell them now. It'll be nice to have a few quiet nights."

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Just because all the men in Barracks 2 were asleep, didn't mean that it was quiet. There was always the sounds of heavy breathing, snores, the creak of a bunk as someone rolled over or the mutters of a dreamer. The darkness likewise wasn't complete, as the searchlights roamed across the shuttered windows at regular intervals, lighting up the room dimly through the cracks.

A guard's footsteps grew louder as he patrolled along the side of the building, moving along his usual route. They faded away as he continued into the rest of the compound.

It was odd that there was no illicit activity at all in the barracks during the night. London hadn't sent any missions, nor were there any bombing runs nearby that the Allies reported so none of the Heroes were outside of the wire to look for downed fliers. Enjoying a full night of sleep was a luxury they rarely seemed to get.

A soft rustle didn't stand out much in the background noise. The light thud of feet hitting the floor didn't wake anyone up. A dark figure moved around the barracks for a few moments before the door opened quietly and closed behind it.

Only minutes later, the sirens went off, waking everyone in the barracks. Sleepy complaints and worried questions sounded off as men climbed out of their bunks to try to peer through window cracks. Colonel Hogan appeared, tying his robe as he came out of his room. There was shouting from guards out in the compound and Hogan moved to open the barracks door carefully.

Corporal Langenschiedt ran up and pushed the door shut again, apologizing. "Nein, Colonel Hogan, all prisoners must stay in the barracks..."

Hogan narrowed his eyes and reopened the door. "As Senior Prisoner of War, I have every right to know if one of my men is in trouble!"

Langenschiedt looked distressed. "Jawohl, Colonel Hogan, when I know, I will tell you." He firmly closed the door again.

Looking around the barracks, Hogan snapped irritably. "Who's missing? Anyone from this barracks?" There was muttering as everyone tried to count heads. "Dammit, where's Newkirk?"

"He was in his bunk when I went to sleep, Colonel!" said Carter.

Hogan fumed for a moment. "He'd better have a good explanation for getting busted... if it's him they caught outside the barracks." He turned as the door opened up.

Schultz came in, brushing snow off his shoulders. "Colonel Hogan, Kommandant Klink wants to see you in his office immediately." He looked up and seemed astonished at seeing all the men out of their bunks. "Was is los? Why is everyone out of bed? There is some monkey business?"

"No, Schultz, we heard the commotion outside, what happened?" Hogan stepped up close. "Who's in trouble?"

Schultz scoffed slightly. "The Englander. He was sleepwalking around the compound again. Corporal Mueller caught him and now Kommandant Klink is yelling at him. I told him that Newkirk was sleepwalking before but the kommandant is still angry because Mueller woke him up." He motioned a bit more urgently. "You have to come to the office so he can yell at you too now."

"Great, just great." Hogan turned back to his room. "Give me a minute to change." As Schultz tried to protest, Hogan waved him off. "I'm not freezing to death out there, it'll just take a minute." His door closed behind him with a slam.

LeBeau and Carter crowded the guard as soon as Hogan was gone. The Frenchman spoke up first. "Is Newkirk okay? Mueller didn't hurt him?"

Carter burst in before Schultz could answer. "Newkirk didn't mean to be out, I'm sure he wasn't doing anything! What was he doing? Is he hurt?"

"One at a time!" Schultz shouted at them. "I know nothing!" When both of them began fussing at him at once, he groaned. "Mueller took him to the office. I don't know." He stepped towards Hogan's room. "Colonel Hogan, puuulease, Kommandant Klink will send me to the Russian Front if I do not bring you to him right away!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Hogan emerged, dragging his leather jacket on. "Let's go, and everyone just calm down." He tilted his head towards his room, catching Kinch's eye as he shooed Schultz towards the barracks' door. "Let's go Schultz, you don't want to keep Klink waiting, right?"

"I am not keeping anyone waiting, I was waiting for you!" Schultz complained at Hogan as they left.

Kinch immediately went to set up their coffeepot listening device. By the time Carter and LeBeau crowded into the room, the sound of Klink berating someone loudly in his office was clear. Kinch let out a soft whistle. "Man, Klink is steamed!"

LeBeau hitched himself up onto the stool to listen. "He's always cranky when he has to get up in the middle of the night."

Carter leaned over the table. "I don't hear Newkirk at all."

"If he's smart, and our Cockney is smart, he'll keep his mouth shut. What was he thinking anyway?" Kinch snorted. "Just because we don't have a mission is no reason to say he's bored and suddenly be sneaking outside at night for a stupid prank." His tone made it clear he was a bit disgusted with Newkirk for all the fuss.

Carter protested. "Hey, maybe he had a good reason! Besides, he didn't tell me anything and he didn't wake me up leaving. You know he almost always lets one of us know if he's going out of the barracks after lights-out. Well, sometimes he does."

"Shhh, Colonel Hogan just walked in!" LeBeau bent closer to the speaker.

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End Chapter

What's going on? Was Newkirk sleepwalking? Tune in for the next chapter.

Thank you for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

Many thanks to everyone who read and huge amounts of appreciation to all who reviewed. I always look forward to hearing what you guys think!

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Chapter 2

When Hogan arrived at the kommandantur, he sped up ahead of Schultz and burst into the room unannounced. He found a robed and slippered Klink angrily berating a thoroughly confused looking Newkirk in his nightshirt. Luftwaffe Corporal Mueller stood to one side looking as bored as he ever did.

Hogan didn't waste time, interrupting Klink one step inside the office door. "I must protest, Kommandant!"

Klink rounded in on him, as Hogan intended. "Colonel Hogan, I am not interested in your protests! A prisoner was caught outside the barracks, obviously trying to escape and that is grounds for punishment!" He turned back to Newkirk. "Tell me! How were you going to escape? Go through the wire, hmmm? Sneak into one of the trucks? Tell me or it's sixty days in the cooler for you!"

Hogan tried to intervene again. He didn't like the fact that Newkirk seemed unable to answer. It wasn't unusual for the man to get caught pulling some sort of stunt, whether something Hogan ordered or some prank of his own. It was strange for him to not have a glib explanation ready. "Kommandant, don't be ridiculous, if Newkirk were escaping, he would hardly have been trying it while not even dressed!"

Newkirk had both arms wrapped around his ribs and was visibly shivering. At Hogan's words, he made an effort to look more pitiful, but it was hardly needed. "Y-yes sir... I wasn't t-trying to escape, herr Kommandant."

"Then what were you doing outside of the barracks?!" Klink stomped his foot, forgetting he was in slippers. He hopped slightly on one leg, favoring the foot for a few seconds. "You will tell me what you were up to!"

Newkirk almost cringed backwards. "I don't know! I don't remember leaving the barracks. Mueller said I was sleepwalking!" He turned to appeal to the stoic guard standing in the corner. "Tell the kommandant! You said I was asleep!"

"Ja, herr Kommandant. He looked asleep." Mueller shrugged, disinterested now that he'd done his part in finding the prisoner and taking him to the appropriate officer.

"That's ridiculous!" Klink waved his arms. "You expect me to believe this man was sleepwalking around a prison camp?"

Schultz finally spoke up. "The Englander did it before, Kommandant Klink. He was sleepwalking and I found him. He didn't even wake up when I called his name." He gave Newkirk a look. "Maybe he was sleepwalking again."

Hogan seized on the bizarre excuse. "See? That explains why he wasn't dressed. Obviously if it were an escape attempt, he would have on warm clothing. So he was just sleepwalking." He stepped over and put a hand on Newkirk's shoulder. He could feel the shivers through the flannel cloth. "I should just take him back to his bunk. We'll make sure he stays in it the rest of the night, Colonel Klink." He looked over at Mueller with a grateful expression pasted on his face. "Thank you Corporal Mueller for finding him. I mean, he could have hurt himself wandering around the compound at night! It was good of you to bring him right to Kommandant Klink too! We all know how the kommandant cares about making sure all his prisoners are safe at all times. You knew he would want to make certain poor Corporal Newkirk wasn't injured." Hogan turned his look onto the officer. "We're just lucky to have you as our kommandant. Who knows what sort of brutal treatment he could have had!"

Klink's expression was wavering now. The man craved approval, despite the approval coming from one of his prisoners. Colonel Hogan was a master at giving him exactly the right mix of praise and irritation so that he was flattered but still wanted to simply end the interaction as soon as possible. "Well, of course I never condone brutal treatment..." His gaze sharpened as he turned on the nervous Englishman. "You would do well to make certain you stay sleeping in your barracks from now on. Not all the guards would be so forgiving as Mueller." There was a soft sigh of annoyance from the guard in question. "Hogan... take him back to the barracks and make sure he doesn't repeat this again." Klink dismissed them and returned to his quarters without even waiting for his office to empty of people.

Schultz immediately shooed them out, leaving Mueller to shut off the light and close the doors. The big guard spoke quietly. "I will take them back to the barracks, Corporal Mueller. Resume your patrol." Mueller nodded and hefted his rifle up onto his shoulder and disappeared into the night without any more response than a salute. Schultz waved at the two prisoners. "Come, back to the barracks. Newkirk, you cannot be wandering the compound at night. It is much too dangerous." he scolded gently. "Please, no more walks tonight."

"I didn't bloody well mean to be out 'ere in the first place, Schultz." Newkirk's teeth were chattering loud enough to hear. "If I came out on me own, I would 'ave me sodding boots on at least!"

Hogan glanced down, startled to see the man in nothing but wet socks. "You _were_ sleepwalking?"

Newkirk cursed softly as he walked through a patch of snow accidentally. " _Yes!_ Yes, for the last bleeding time, I didn't come out 'ere on me own!" He was obviously trying to hurry without running. Running through the compound after dark was the easy way to get shot. Even mostly tame guards would get antsy over that.

Hogan lengthened his stride to speed up their progress. "Well, with your reputation, it's always a question, isn't it?" His attempt at humor fell a bit flat.

Not particularly in a joking mood, Newkirk snorted loudly as he reached the door of Barracks 2. Before he could open it, LeBeau snatched it open and began berating him in French. The Englishman winced and shouldered his friend slightly aside to enter. "Bloody well leave off, Louis! I'm freezing and..." His voice suddenly rose in anger. "...and if you're going to yell at me, do it in bloody English!"

Hogan's voice cut through both of theirs to silence them. "Quiet down, both of you." He turned to nod at Schultz. "Thanks Schultz, we'll keep him inside." He closed the door firmly and then sighed as he ran one hand through his hair. "Newkirk..."

"I didn't bloody well walk out there on purpose!" The Brit was standing and shivering violently by their stove. "I swear, sir, I was asleep and then Mueller was shaking me like a dog with a ruddy bone and next thing I know, Klink is yelling at me!" His distress was evident and although he was a very good actor, Hogan was nearly as good at catching him out if he lied to them.

"Calm down." Hogan's eyes went around the room. "Everyone just calm down. Newkirk was sleepwalking apparently and he's fine and everyone is going back to bed. Right now. That's an order." He picked up one of their few chairs and wedged it under the door handle. "That should keep you in, if you manage to get back up."

LeBeau frowned and then grabbed the empty coffeepot and a saucepan to set on top of the chair carefully. "There, if Pierre tries to move the chair, it'll fall down and wake up someone." He still looked upset with his friend. "No more scaring everyone! You'd better have been sleepwalking too, instead of some stupid prank." His eyes flickered away for a moment before he reached out to squeeze the man's arm. "You could have been shot."

"I know." Taking a deep breath in, Newkirk nodded at him. "I know. I wasn't pulling anything. And I never walked in me sleep before." He did manage a half smile for Hogan then. "Well, not for real, anyway. I swear, sir, I wasn't pranking."

Hogan chuckled softly at him then. "I know you weren't. If you'd planned on going outside, you'd have boots on. Go on, go back to sleep. Better to talk about it in the morning." He gestured to the door. "And whoever gets up first, other than Newkirk, move the chair so Langenschiedt doesn't break down the door in the morning trying to burst in here to get us for roll call." He gave a pat to Newkirk's shoulder and went back to his office, yawning widely as he did so.

As soon as the door shut, Olson rolled to lean half off his bunk. "Seriously, did you sleepwalk? Where were you going?"

Carter lifted up from his bunk. "Were you dreaming about something? Maybe you were dreaming you were running and so you ran in your dream? I bet that was it!"

Kinch's deep voice came from the far side of the barracks. "If Newkirk was running, he was probably chasing pretty frauliens in his sleep." Soft laughter ran around the barracks.

Hogan's door opened back up. "Turn off the lights, boys, it's a school night."

"Yes sir." Newkirk hobbled over to shut the lights off and climbed up into his bunk.

Carter noticed his limping and levered himself up to look at him with concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." His voice was already sleepy. All the adrenaline was seeping out of his system leaving him exhausted. Newkirk mustered up a tired smile for his friend though. "I walked through a bunch of snow. I'll be fine in the morning."

"Are you sure? Here, I can get your coat and put it over your legs, that'll keep them warmer!" Carter was already dragging the English greatcoat down and shaking it out to drape over top of the blanket. It was big enough to act as a second blanket all by itself. "There, that should be better."

"Thanks Carter." Newkirk had learned long ago it was easier to just agree and move on than to argue with Carter over small things. "Go to bed before the guv'ner 'ears you and yells at us all."

"Sorry!" whispered Carter. "Good night!" He clambered back down into his own alcove and curled up under his blanket with a great deal of flopping around and movements. Eventually the shaking of the bunks stopped as he found the most comfortable spot.

Although part of his brain was still worried over his actions, Newkirk fell asleep quickly again. He wasn't a sleepwalker. It must have been a chance thing. Maybe he'd dreamed about providing a distraction again and acted it out in real life. His eyes closed and he was asleep before he could reassure himself any further on it.

The barracks quieted as everyone slipped back into the interrupted sleep for the night.

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End Chapter

Well, at least he's not hurt! Thank you for reading. Next chapter soon!


	3. Chapter 3

Happy Holidays to all! I hope that you have a great week whatever you celebrate, even if it's just celebrating "Tuesday". Thank you for the lovely reviews and for reading.

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Morning came early. The first rattle at the door brought Kinch rushing over to remove the chair to let the guards in. Schultz himself followed Langenscheidt into Barracks 2 and threw his hands up at the empty bunk by the door. While Langenscheidt urged everyone up and outside for the roll call, Schultz went to bang on Colonel Hogan's door.

"What is it Schultz? I'm getting up." Hogan grumbled, mostly out of form, but everyone's sleep had been interrupted so he wasn't happy to be rousted out. "Look, everyone is getting up."

Schultz's arms pumped with each of his words. "The Englander is missing again! You said that you would watch him. Now he is gone. The Kommandant will blame me."

"Sergeant Schultz!" Langenscheidt was crouched at Olson's bunk in the far corner of the room. "He is here!" The lanky guard pointed under the bunk and Olson tilted his head over to peer underneath. "Corporal Newkirk! Raus, roll call!" called Langenscheidt.

Olson laughed as a half-asleep Newkirk crawled from under the bunk. "What were you doing?" asked Olson.

"I'unno." Newkirk got to his feet and went to dress quickly. Olson pulled on his own coat and went to pick at him more. "Leave off. I don't remember." The Englishman crankily threw on his greatcoat while heading for the door, snapping at the guards on his way. "Yeah, roll call, like I wouldn't remember that we 'ave bloody roll call every bloody morning in this godforsaken 'ell 'ole."

As they lined up, Hogan reached out to give him a pat. "Easy. We'll talk inside after roll call. It's not Schultz or Langenscheidt's fault you're wandering the barracks at night." The American pilot watched him duck his head down. "It's okay. It's not your fault either."

"Whatever." Newkirk shuffled his feet, jamming his hands down into the pockets of his coat. When Langenscheidt came by counting, Newkirk glanced up and caught his eye. "Sorry Langenscheidt."

Smiling at him and nodding his head, Langenscheidt paused. "It is okay. I am glad you were in the barracks, Corporal Newkirk. It would not be good if you were missing." He went on to finish counting heads without incident, despite most of the men shouting numbers in various languages to try to confuse him. Once he tallied the men against his list, he went to stand impassively in front of Hogan and awaited the Kommandant's arrival.

Klink bustled out shouting for his morning report and dismissed everyone immediately. He looked a bit worse for wear after his own interrupted sleep and disappeared back into the offices without any further comments. Schultz seemed relieved and headed back off to the guards' barracks while Langenscheidt attempted to dismiss his prisoners who had already mostly wandered away after the kommandant's dismissal.

Newkirk took the time to sidle up to their guard and reassure him. "Don't worry, Langenscheidt, they don't listen to the sergeant of the guard either. It's not personal, you see."

"Ja. Ja." Langenscheidt leaned in to speak quietly. "It would be nicer if they waited for me to tell them to go though. You will tell them for me? Ja?"

"I'll pass on your concerns." Newkirk smiled as he headed inside, yawning again as he did. Peeling off his greatcoat, he climbed right back up into his bunk and rolled up in his blanket again. "If anyone needs me, I'll be taking a kip, mates."

LeBeau stood on tiptoe to peer at him. "You said you'd help me get the fresh vegetables this morning from the guard's mess."

There was a loud grunt from the blankets. "If anyone IMPORTANT needs me, I'll be taking a kip."

Muttering in French, LeBeau gave a lump in the blankets a good smack before he went back to the stove to check the coffee. There was only a muffled complaint in response.

Carter looked up but went to LeBeau. "I'll help you, LeBeau! After breakfast, that is. Are you coming now? I hope the mess has oatmeal. Something hot would be better than just bread for once."

"Oui, Carter. We'll go when the Colonel comes out." LeBeau busied himself with cleaning a few cups in the sink waiting. Kinch left already with Olson and some of the other men. When Hogan emerged, LeBeau and Carter joined him.

Hogan stopped at the door and leaned to speak to Newkirk. "Are you coming to breakfast?"

"Sleeping." was Newkirk's muffled answer.

"Okay, try to not wander off too far until we get back." Hogan started out the door and paused for just a second. "If you feel a need to crawl under a bunk, feel free to use mine, it needs dusting under there." He left before the grumbling man could unwind himself from his covers to retort.

LeBeau was grinning as they crossed the compound. "Pierre is tired this morning. What will we do about his sleepwalking? It could have been very dangerous."

Carter piped up quickly. "Newkirk didn't mean to sleepwalk. It's not his fault."

LeBeau snapped at him. "It doesn't have to be his fault for him to end up dead, shot by a guard out in the compound at night!"

Hogan put a hand on the Frenchman's shoulder to calm him. "Right now, we don't have to worry about it, but tonight, we'll just make sure to block the door. If Newkirk can't wander outside, he's not likely to harm himself. If he wants to walk around the table in his sleep it won't bother anyone."

"Oui, but..." LeBeau looked up at the colonel. "What if he really starts wandering? If he ends up in the tunnels, who knows where he could come up and if he's asleep..."

Carter had grown more alarmed with each word. "What if he doesn't check for guards? What if he uses the entrance to Klink's quarters?" Turning to look back at the barracks, he looked as if he would rush back to the barracks to check on his friend right away.

"Easy, let's not borrow trouble." soothed Hogan. He reached out and turned Carter back towards the messhall. "Keep your voice down too, let's not tell _all_ the guards about the tunnels, okay?" He started them both back on the walk to the messhall. "After breakfast, we'll figure out how to safeguard Newkirk _and_ the tunnels."

Reassured, Carter followed along although he still looked a bit worried. Suddenly he brightened. "Hey, we can always tie him to the bunk!"

Hogan and LeBeau exchanged a look. Hogan tilted his head a little as he reached to put one hand on Carter's shoulder. "Carter, when you sound so enthusiastic about tying Newkirk to the bunk, you worry people."

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End Chapter

I hope you liked it. I may post an extra chapter for the holiday. What say you?

Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Well just for KarterMine... and for all the other super lovely reviewers, I've uploaded a new chapter for the holiday. I hope today finds you happy, warm and safe. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays or Happy Friday, whichever you prefer. I spent Christmas Eve fishing in the ocean.

I'd like to thank everyone who gives me feedback about stories, everyone who discusses the show and writing, my betas especially TinySprite and LadyJaye1, the old Twitter gang and all of my new HH fandom friends.

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Newkirk didn't wander during his short nap. He also promptly refused to allow Carter to tie him to anything that night. LeBeau decided to sleep on the false bunk to prevent any chance of a sleepwalking Newkirk from entering the tunnels and Kinch put their boobytrapped chair back under the door to the barracks. Although Carter seemed determined to fret over it, Newkirk's threats of bodily harm unless he quieted down finally got the younger man to go to sleep.

Hogan seemed confident that the precautions would prove enough to contain any wandering Englishmen, and Newkirk seemed confident that he wouldn't wander for a second night.

Kinch seemed confused when he was awakened by a very cold draft of winter breeze through the open window.

A few minutes later, when Kinch was leaning out of the window just sleepily realizing the implications of that open window, the rest of the barracks woke to the alarms and barking dogs once again.

Carter jerked the chair from under the doorknob, dropping all the pans noisily onto the floor awakening anyone who slept through the initial alarms and was just barely stopped from running outside by Kinch. "No! Newkirk must be outside! We have to go help him!"

Kinch dragged him back inside. "And getting shot rushing out the door won't help him at all!" He pushed the door mostly closed but stood watching out of the crack. Carter tried to see around him. "Go tell Colonel Hogan..."

"I'm here." Hogan came out of his quarters running a hand through his hair. "How'd he make it past the chair?"

"He used the window, sir." Kinch was shifting around trying to see the compound. "I don't see him."

Hogan came to peer out through the crack in the door as well. "How far could he go while asleep? Where's Langenscheidt anyway?" He twisted to check near the barrack's door. "Let me out..." He slipped out, going to the nervous guard. "Hey, what's going on?"

Langenscheidt goggled at him. "Colonel Hogan, you must go back inside!" He fruitlessly tried to shoo the prisoner towards the door. "Please, I don't know what is happening but all prisoners have to be inside if the alarms go off!"

"One of my men could be in danger, so I'm not going back inside until I find out what's going on." replied Hogan firmly. "Why don't you escort me to the disturbance? That way you're guarding me." He smiled. "Or I could just go by myself and you can stay here and explain to the Sergeant of the Guard why one of the prisoners from your barracks is wandering about by themselves."

"Please, Colonel Hogan I don't want to be in trouble, please go back inside." Langenscheidt's attention was taken by two guards dragging a struggling figure across the compound. "Is that the Englander?"

"Dammit..." Hogan barely looked at his guard before heading for the trio. "Hey! Hands off, Fritz! Let him go!" His angry strides and furious expression covered the worry for his man. "There's no need for all this fuss!" He intercepted the group and as expected found Newkirk to be the cause of the ruckus, dressed again in nothing but a nightshirt, shaking with cold and looking as confused as the night before. "Unhand that man immediately!" He brushed the guards away angrily, putting himself between them and Newkirk. Hogan's demeanor made most people automatically feel he was in command, even when they were supposed to be his captors. "Can't you see he is in distress!?"

Newkirk tried to stammer at him. "I... I don't..." His eyes focused. "'ow'd I get out 'ere?" His arms wrapped around himself as he shook violently with cold.

"You must have been sleepwalking again. Let's get you back inside and warmed up." Hogan's attempt to ignore the guards was too far.

"Nein. We take Englander to Kommandant Klink!" the burly guard took Newkirk by his arm, albeit much more gently than before. "Prisoners cannot be out of barracks at night!" He tugged him along. "Come! You come now!"

Hogan made a last attempt, one eye on Klink's quarters watching for any sign the kommandant had been awakened yet. "Look, Private Hintzen, waking up Colonel Klink will just make him angry, right? And who will he be angry at? The guard waking him up, right?" Hintzen started to look worried, while his partner took a little step away as if to distance himself entirely. "Look, you found Newkirk wandering around asleep and you returned him to his barracks, right? You did your duty, so there's no real reason to alert Klink, just put it on the report for the night." Now Hintzen started tugging at his lip thinking about it. "I'm sure that you thought of just waiting and telling the Sergeant of the Guard when you go off duty, but then you wouldn't want to put all that paperwork off on him, just because he's in charge." Hogan's sly smile widened a bit as he moved backwards half a step, nudging Newkirk back with his shoulder as he did. "Langenscheidt and I can just take him back to the barracks and us officers can just work it all out in the morning when the kommandant won't be all grumpy... just to do you and Private Kappel here a big favor. I don't mind doing this for you, since you're such a good guy, watching out for poor Newkirk..." Hogan's shoulder pushed Newkirk another step backwards towards the barracks. "Of course, if you'd prefer to do all the paperwork tonight, and listen to the kommandant screaming at you for an hour, that's fine too."

"Nein!" Hintzen waved a hand towards the barracks suddenly. "Der Kommandant will not want to be disturbed." He turned to wave at the guard tower nearest them and shouted in German for them to stand down. "You go back to barracks now!" He bent slightly to speak slowly to Newkirk. "You Englander! Stay in barracks! No coming outside!"

"Ja, ja." Newkirk nodded vigorously. "Nein coming outside!" He huddled behind Hogan. "Dan-kay." He stumbled his way back to the barracks, flanked on either side by Hogan and Langenscheidt. "I s-s-swear guv'ner, I didn't..."

"Let's just get you inside." Hogan was now concerned. One trip outside he could chalk up to some sort of oddity or a unconfessed prank by Newkirk. Twice in two nights with the incident of him being found under a bunk as well? Now it was a problem. The last thing he needed was one of the key members of the team being shot for an absurdity like sleepwalking.

When they entered, Newkirk was surrounded by his friends and fussed over. LeBeau had found a candle to give them just enough light to not stumble over things, although Carter managed despite it. Kinch wrapped the cold Englishman up in his blanket and pushed him next to the stove.

Kinch stayed by him, rubbing his arms briskly. "You have to stop doing this, Peter."

Carter agreed. "Yeah, one of the guards will shoot you!" He retrieved his own blanket to add to Newkirk's covering. "Or you'll freeze to death! Golly that would be terrible, if you managed to wander around and even the guards didn't catch you but you died in the snow out there!"

Newkirk rolled his eyes rather expressively. "I t-think I'd b-be just as dead either way, 'onestly." He looked as if he were wondering if he'd fit _inside_ the stove.

LeBeau handed him a cup of hot water. "You don't need coffee, but drink this to warm up." Newkirk took it and sipped. "Colonel, we have to figure out how to keep him inside."

Carter spoke up quickly. "We can still tie him to the bunk!"

"Carter!" Newkirk sounded highly annoyed. "Stop it with the tying up nonsense." His shoulders hunched a bit more as he shuddered all over trying to shake off the chill. "I don't mean to be such a bother, guys..."

"Not your fault." Hogan reached out and put the back of his hand onto Newkirk's cheek. "Warm up and get back to bed. You're freezing cold. Try to dream about not walking, okay?" He stepped away and motioned to Kinch and Olson. "You two secure the door _and_ the windows and whoever is sleeping on the tunnel bunk doesn't get up until we're all getting up." He took a breath. "I don't want any repeats of this." He did smile a bit wryly. "If you keep wandering, I am going to let Carter tie you up."

"Sir! No!" Newkirk protested.

"Sorry, better to annoy you than to have to scrape you off the ground after you're machine-gunned down by an over eager German. Not all the guards are as easy going as Schultz." said Hogan apologetically. "Everyone get back to bed." He started back to his quarters.

Kinch stopped him. "Sir, how should we lock the windows? The latches are on the inside. He could just unlatch them and open them." He shrugged at the embarrassed Brit. "You opened the window once already."

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to." said Newkirk. He drained the last of his water and tried not to look sulky over all the fuss. After all, he was the cause of it.

Hogan opened his mouth and then closed it. "Well... umm... latch them shut."

"They _were_ latched shut, sir." Kinch had already long since reclosed the window and now stood looking at it to figure out how to lock it against a notorious lockpick and thief. He grinned over at Newkirk. "Peter, why you gotta be so talented at sneaking?"

"Sorry." said Newkirk again, although he sounded less upset with his friend teasing him. The fright of waking up to screaming German guards out in the cold was finally passing.

A loud rattle made everyone look at LeBeau who was hauling a long string of metal cans over to Kinch. "We don't have to lock the window so Pierre doesn't get out. We just have to make it so if he does, we hear him and stop him." He rattled the cans. "We'll boobytrap the windows!"

"Brilliant, Louis." Even Newkirk smiled at the idea. "Maybe it'll wake me up."

"Good job, LeBeau." praised Hogan. "That should keep him from wandering. Get it done and then everyone back in bed." His door closed firmly behind him as Kinch and LeBeau fastened cans to the windows in the room.

Kinch nodded decisively looking around the room. "Okay, now I think we have you corralled! Go to bed." He watched LeBeau curling up on the false bunk and Carter taking back his blanket to roll up into. Newkirk clambered up to his bunk with a visible effort and tucked himself under his blanket and greatcoat both. Only when everyone was back safely in their bunks did Kinch blow out the candle.

Their radioman laid himself down but couldn't sleep for a long time. He gazed into the dark room, listening for any telltale noises of a wanderer. The danger that his teammate had been in both nights scared him a bit. It was one thing to face dangers knowingly, to go out on a mission knowing you risked your life by doing so. But to walk into possible death because you were asleep, to wake only with bullets, Kinch shuddered under his blankets and it had nothing to do with the cold.

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End Chapter


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Thank you all so much for reading and especially for reviewing. Yes, they'll eventually find out the why's and such. Also, I do my best to respond to all the reviews from people who have signed in, except for those that have disabled the private messaging feature. If I do miss you, either you have disabled PMs, or it was purely by accident. Or it was TinySprite, who I annoy often enough without also sending her responses to reviews. *grins* She da bomb.

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Hogan woke up and shivered. His room was freezing and he groaned and pulled his blanket a bit higher up on his head, hoping that it was early enough that he wouldn't have to get up quite yet. A stiff breeze found it's way under the thin fabric and he pulled it tighter yet. It was bad enough to be cold, but to have the breeze blowing in his room...

He sat up suddenly and looked at a wide open window and shutters. For just a couple seconds he stared at it, watching the light grow as dawn grew closer. "Newkirk!" He slid off the bunk and lurched to the window to look out, hoping somehow that he'd find the Brit right there. Instead he saw nothing and rushed out into the main room. "Wake up, he's gone!" He spared a quick check to find the bunk empty just as he feared. Everyone in the barracks was trying to wake up and make sense of his words. "Get up! We have to find him before the guards do!"

LeBeau was still on the false bunk so at least they knew he hadn't gone down into the tunnels. Hogan cursed as a thought occurred to him. There was a chance that Newkirk could have entered a tunnel from outside.

LeBeau and Carter were already in their pants and slipping out of the door. Olson took an extra minute to check underneath all the bunks before sneaking out one of the windows at the rear of the barracks as well. Hogan took the time to dress before composing himself to confront the guards. When he stepped out, he found Langenscheidt just approaching his post again. "Where have you been?" asked Hogan angrily.

Langenscheidt stammered as he stood there. "Colonel Hogan! I- I was j-just..."

"Just leaving your post! Yes I see that." Hogan's eyes were scanning the compound even as he listened for any noises. He saw LeBeau going around the corner of another barracks. "Aren't you supposed to stay at your post the whole time?"

Suddenly Langenscheidt gasped with a sudden insight. "The Englander is gone! Ja?"

Hogan's eyes narrowed. They all tended to underestimate the young corporal. "Yes, he's sleepwalking again and I don't know where he went."

"We should find him... very quickly." Langenscheidt turned to go look but then turned back, obviously torn between searching for the missing prisoner and standing at his assigned post. He moved several steps away and then paused to turn back to Hogan.

The guard's indecisiveness made Hogan want to scream at him. "What? Are you trying to decide if you'll get into more trouble for going to look for a missing prisoner who escaped from _your_ barracks?" His tone was scathing, as he tried to cover his own slight panic. "I can guarantee the Kommandant will look harshly on a missing or dead prisoner versus Schultz being upset you left your post!"

"Nein!" Langenscheidt pointed. "Der Englander is on the roof!" His open mouth would have been amusing in any other circumstances. "Why is the Englander on the roof?" He seemed to think of something. "How will we get him off the roof?"

Hogan scrambled away from the wall to look up. Curled up in a ball was his missing man, to all appearances asleep. In the thin layer of snow. In his nightshirt. "Dammit." He moved closer to hiss up at the figure. "Newkirk! Newkirk wake up!" There was no movement and Hogan suddenly feared the cold had gotten to him. "Newkirk!" he shouted.

The shout was enough to wake the sleeper and Newkirk sat upright with a yell. Unfortunately the speed at which he sat up caused him to slip and his yell turned into a squawk as he slid down the roof, taking a considerable amount of snow with him.

Hogan winced at the muffled thud. "Well, at least we don't have to figure out how to get him down." He rushed over to check on the prone form. "Are you okay?" Kinch joined him and Hogan spoke quietly to his sergeant. "Signal the others to get back in the barracks." Kinch nodded and moved to the corner to whistle softly. The sharp tone brought both Olson and Carter back quickly.

Olson spoke in an undertone as he passed them. "LeBeau went through the dog pen." He raised his voice as he reached to pick Newkirk up. "Are you hurt? Where were you?"

"What?" His voice hoarse, Newkirk looked from one to the other. "Where am I?" Hogan and Olson got him up. "Ow..."

"Is Corporal Newkirk injured?" Langenscheidt hovered anxiously, looking over his shoulder to see if Schultz was coming yet. "Take him inside before someone sees!" Hogan wasn't certain if the guard was more worried about them or himself getting into trouble.

Olson pushed Langenscheidt out of the way gently. "We will, come on, Newkirk." He nearly had to carry the man to get him inside. "LeBeau, get a blanket on the stove to warm up. He's half frozen." The Frenchman was already putting broth on the stove.

Depositing Newkirk into Carter's bunk, Olson began gathering blankets from other bunks. "Come on guys." One of the men unwrapped his blanket from around himself and put it on top of the Englishman. "Thanks Williams."

LeBeau came to gently slap at Newkirk's face. "Stay awake, mon ami. Why are you going outside into the snow? It's too cold to do these things!" He dropped into French as Newkirk's eyes closed anyway. He slapped him harder to bring him back around. Olson returned and sat on the bunk to haul the Englishman upright and prop him against his own chest. "Keep him awake, I will get a cup of broth."

Carter brought over a warmed blanket and draped it over his friend before settling on his other side and wrapping an arm around him. "Come on, Newkirk, you have to warm up. I mean, roll call is soon, you wouldn't want to miss that." He looked over at Olson. "I knew we should have tied him to the bunk."

"No t-t-tying me up..." Newkirk's head drooped back down almost as soon as he raised it to try to glare at Carter. He couldn't keep his eyes open. When Carter jostled him roughly, he got his eyes half open.

A cup of broth pressed against his lips and he swallowed more by reflex than desire. LeBeau spoke softly in French, trying to encourage more drinking. When Hogan came to check on them, LeBeau turned to him urgently. "Mon Colonel, we need Wilson. Pierre is much too cold. How long was he outside?" When Newkirk's hand closed over his to draw the cup back to him, he apologized and went back to feeding him slowly. "Not too fast. Just a little sip."

"Is good... sehr gut, mein freund..." Newkirk abruptly fell asleep and bubbled into the soup before LeBeau could get it away from him. Olson shook him awake again. The Brit opened his eyes quickly. "Sehr gut..."

LeBeau put one hand on his jaw to get him to focus. "You don't have to speak German, it's us. Look."

"Soup." Newkirk blinked at LeBeau before smiling. "'ey little mate..."

"Hi. Drink a little." With a great deal of patient encouragement from LeBeau and a lot of repeated shaking by Olson and worried fussing from Carter, Newkirk slowly warmed up and got more alert. Even their guard was wringing his hands in worry.

Wilson arrived with the taciturn guard Mueller in tow behind him. While the medic began to fuss over everyone moving Newkirk around after he fell off of a roof, Mueller tilted his head just enough to look at the shivering prisoner, grunted and left again.

Wilson spoke quietly to reassure everyone. "He'll be just fine. Who knows how he managed to fall off the roof and not break anything. He's just cold, there's no signs of frostbite and he's practically alert already." Wilson sighed as Newkirk took that exact moment to close his eyes and let his head tilt forward again. "Oh for Criminy's sake... Newkirk!" The face came back up and sleepy eyes focused on him again. "See? He'll be okay."

"We're just worried, he was outside on the roof in the snow!" Carter tightened his arm around Newkirk protectively. "He could have frozen to death out there."

Newkirk himself snorted loudly and twisted to look at Carter with bemusement. "You just wanna tie me to the bunk."

"Well, if I had, maybe you wouldn't have gone on the roof!" Carter frowned, still not willing to back off on the idea.

Everyone's heads lifted at the sounds of roll call beginning outside in the compound. Langenscheidt inhaled and then looked at Hogan. "Roll call, Colonel Hogan."

"Carter, stay with Newkirk. Langenscheidt you can count them inside the barracks. Everyone else outside for roll call." Hogan's glance around the room sent everyone scrambling to dress and get outside.

Newkirk took notice and tried to stand up. "I can..." He tried a second time to get up. "I really can make it..."

Carter tugged him back and pulled the blankets back over him. "No, look, you're still freezing." He exchanged a look with Hogan before bending to speak quietly to Newkirk. "Besides, I don't want to go out in the cold, so if you stay inside, then I can too, okay buddy?"

"Yeah." Giving up on his attempts to get out of the bunk, Newkirk hitched himself around and propped his back on the bunk's post. "Only so you can stay inside too though. Not that I can't go stand for roll call."

"Of course not." LeBeau was wrapping his scarf around his neck, ready to go outside himself. "Just rest, I promise I'll make porridge this morning."

Newkirk perked up almost as much as Carter. Hogan smiled at the near identical hopeful expressions. The Colonel paused before he went out. "I'm going to talk to Klink after roll call. Then we're going to talk about how to keep you inside." Hogan sauntered out, putting on his usual show of insolent carelessness. As everyone lined up and began the morning ritual of harassing the guards attempting to both count heads and invoke a minimum of order on the prisoners, Hogan watched over it with an indulgent eye. Barracks Two was no exception although they chided Langenscheidt with a bit more humor than malice. Some guards were not as lucky and were already resorting to shouting at their charges.

Schultz came over at a speedy waddle to question Hogan. "Was is los? Where is Newkirk? And Carter?"

Hogan rocked back and forth on his heels looking unconcerned. "Hmm? Who?"

Schultz got a look of remonstrance. "Colonel Hogan. Newkirk and Carter are missing." He shook a finger at him then at Langenscheidt. "You know the count has to be correct."

Langenscheidt blanched. "They are inside. I counted them inside." He lowered his voice. "The Englander was on the roof, herr Sergeant."

Schultz leaned back as he considered that. After a few seconds, he leaned over to the side to ask Hogan in a near-whisper. "Why was the Englander on the roof?"

Hogan looked right, then left, then leaned in close. "Do you _really_ want to know why Newkirk was on the roof this morning, Schultz?"

Schultz considered that for another few seconds before he straightened up. "No." He toddled off, shouting for all the barracks' guards to finish the counts.

Langenscheidt suddenly looked uncertain. "But Colonel Hogan, Newkirk was sleepwalking, ja?"

Hogan nodded at him. "Yes."

"But why do you tell Sergeant Schultz it was something else?" Langenscheidt puzzled over the American's behavior.

Hogan smiled at the corporal. "Did I?" He leaned closer. "How odd. By the way, Klink seems to want to hear a report."

Whirling around, Langenscheidt saluted quickly. "All present and accounted for, herr Komamandant!"

Klink glared at them both but turned to pay attention to the other reports. Looking annoyed at everything, he snapped off a quick salute to release his guards. "Disssssmissed!" He turned to head inside out of the cold only to hear a familiar and annoying voice call to him across the compound.

Hogan was already striding towards him. "Sorry, Kommandant, but I need to speak to you, most urgent matter, I know you'd want to take care of it right away, being the most efficient and capable German officer that you are..."

Klink finally broke into the American's rambling. "Yes yes, fine. Come into the office." He spun on his heel and went in past Hilda's empty desk and into his own office. Without waiting for Hogan, he settled behind his desk, already shuffling papers about to look busy. "What is it this morning, Hogan? Generally you wait until at least after breakfast to begin bothering me."

Hogan removed his crush cap and grasped it in both hands, standing in front of the desk and smiling a bit vacantly. "Yes sir, but I knew that you'd want to know about last night's incident, well, and this morning I guess too. Yes, definitely."

Not having had time to hear any of the overnight reports, Klink narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What incidents?"

Hogan looked surprised. "Oh? I thought the guards reported... I mean, I shouldn't have said anything, no no, I'll just go..." He hurried towards the door, making it to grab the doorknob before Klink stopped him.

"Wait right there! Hogan! Something happened last night and you will tell me what it was! You tell me or it's the cooler for you!" He came out of his chair and came to point at Hogan threateningly. "Tell me!"

Hogan looked at the floor and turned his hat around in his hands in a mockery of nervous indecision. "Well, it's just that I know that the guards know better but you know how they sometimes don't always act the way you'd want them to, no reflection on your leadership of course, no one man can keep them in line twenty-four hours a day! And if they make a few slip ups, why, I'm sure that it won't come back on you at all!" Hogan nodded and tried to smile.

Klink's face had gotten more confused and worried. "Hogan stop waffling and tell me what the guards did!"

Hogan took a deep breath. "Well, it's just that you did say how you understood about Newkirk's sleepwalking and how he can't help sleep walking but when he happened to step outside the barracks... you know, you really should get the story from the guards, not from me. I'm not even in your Army! I should just go... I'm sure that they'll tell you what they did... eventually." He reached for the door again.

Klink grabbed him by the arm now and pushed him towards the chair. "Sit down and you tell me right now!"

"I don't like to carry tales about the camp, Kommandant! You know, it's just not my place. Besides, I know you!" Hogan shook a finger knowingly. "You're an old school Prussian! You don't mind doing all the proper reports when one of your guards shoots a prisoner for no real reason! Sure, it's just Newkirk, and you already knew that he's got a little problem walking in his sleep suddenly, but if one of your guards ignores how harmless he is and shoots him the instant he steps out of the barracks... why you'd back that guard up and take the blame yourself!"

Hogan was watching Klink carefully as the kommandant grew more alarmed. "Besides, what could possibly happen? The Red Cross would get involved sure, but when they investigate, they'll just complain to General Burkhalter!"

Klink paled even further, raising a hand to his mouth in horror. "General Burkhalter?"

Hogan nodded with a smug smile. "But you're not intimidated at all by him! You're the Kommandant here, not him! And it's your guards! You're in charge and you rule everyone here with an iron fist! When Burkhalter sends you to the Russian Front, you'll finally be back in combat! Zooming down on the enemy in the snow and ice!" He beamed. "We'll sure miss you, Kommandant Klink!"

"Miss me? I'm not gone yet!" Klink paced in a small circle, his mind fixating on the possibility of being sent to the Russian Front. "This is terrible! I didn't want the guards to shoot Corporal Newkirk! They didn't, did they?" He paced again. "Of course they didn't, I would have been told immediately. So there's no problem at all, Hogan!"

Hogan nodded eagerly, agreeing. "That's right! But tonight, when Newkirk walks in his sleep, as he probably will, the odds might catch up with him. Then you'll finally get back into combat!" He sighed, staring off into the distance. "You'll be out in the life and death struggles of the war. I envy you, sir... I really do."

"Hogan!" Klink came to him, as Hogan knew he would. "The guards don't just shoot prisoners for nothing. And of course, you did say you would keep Corporal Newkirk in the barracks!" He pointed angrily. "I distinctly remember you promising you'd keep him inside!"

"Well, I tried. But he's so hard to corral, you know how he is." Hogan tapped his chin. "If only there was some way to make sure he doesn't get shot. I know that you want back into combat, but sir, we really need you here! Without your keen eagle mind to outwit the prisoners, my men will have hope that they can escape and then they might get hurt or killed. No, I'd feel much better with you here. You know how to run a prison camp." He tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. "If only there were some way to make sure the guards don't shoot poor helpless Newkirk. But how?" He sighed. "I think it's hopeless, sir."

Klink paced and then stopped. "I shall order the guards to not shoot. Hogan, it's simple." He stepped over. "I shall issue orders to the guards that if they find the Englander outside of the barracks, that they are to escort him back. No one needs to involve the Red Cross. No one needs to alert General Burkhalter. Everyone is happy. No one escapes. See?" He spread his hands with a superior air.

Hogan blinked with mock surprise. "Wow, Kommandant." He stood up humbly nodding at him. "It's no wonder you're in charge of the place." Smiling now, he moved to the door. "I sure feel better now. Thank you sir." He flipped a quick salute at the German officer.

"Of course, Hogan." Looking entirely benevolent, Klink returned the salute. "You can always leave these problems in my hands, Hogan. Dismissed."

Hogan left the kommandantur quickly, replacing his cap on his head and smiling smugly. Now all he had to do was to figure out how to lock in a thief who had made a study of getting into and out of locked places. He sighed. Piece of cake.

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End Chapter

Thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Apologies for the late update. No real excuse other than work being so busy that I plain forgot! I hope that you enjoy this chapter. Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed and to all the folks who helped me!

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Chapter 6

Newkirk sat on his bunk looking miserable. "I'm sorry, guv'ner. I really am."

"It's not your fault, mon ami." LeBeau reached up to pat his friend on the knee. "You wouldn't walk in your sleep if you could help it."

"LeBeau is right." Hogan was sipping coffee as he paced. "But we are going to have to find a way to keep you inside. Some of the pressure might be off with Klink telling the guards not to shoot you automatically, but I'd rather not rely on twitchy German guards remembering their new orders."

Olson still found most of the situation amusing. "That's for certain. They have trouble remembering basic instructions already. I wouldn't want the odds that they'll remember to identify Newkirk and not shoot versus their long-standing orders to shoot any prisoner found out of the barracks after lights out."

Boosting himself up onto Newkirk's bunk beside him, Carter shifted himself around until he was comfortable. "I still say tying him up is a good idea. Whether you like it or not, it's safer, buddy." He reached out and patted his friend gently. "I'm really just thinking about you being safe."

Newkirk gave him a half-smile and reached back, putting one hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Get off my bunk, you wanker."

As Carter climbed back down and LeBeau got done chuckling, Hogan snorted to himself. "Okay, this morning was my mistake. I didn't consider my own window. If we secure it the same way, then we should have all the exits of the barracks covered. But just in case, we're going to indulge Carter a little bit." Ignoring Newkirk's protests, he continued. "Newkirk sleeps in Carter's bunk. We'll put you on a leash." He smiled up at the disgusted looking man. "You'll still be able to move around a bit, but if you go too far, you'll wake up Olson since we're going to tie the other end of your leash to him." That named worthy suddenly looked up, the amusement gone from his face. "If you wake up Olson, trying to wander too far, Olson can put you back in bed or wake you up."

Olson sighed. "Yes sir. But I want extra pay. This is a highly distasteful duty. I never signed on to be tied to a Brit!"

The Brit in question snapped back at him irritably. "Oi! We're Allies, remember? And I'm no 'appier about this than you are."

"Well, I'm not the one who suddenly decided to start wandering the camp at night." Olson grumpily waved a hand at LeBeau. "Isn't he a better person to use? He's the one sleeping on the tunnel bunk and that's kind of close by and they're pals too."

LeBeau objected. "I don't want to be tied to him either."

"Thanks Louis." Newkirk's sarcasm was clear. "It gladdens a bloke's 'eart to find out none of 'is mates wants to be leashed with 'im."

Anyone could have predicted Carter's words. "I wouldn't mind."

Hogan sighed. "Carter, you are _really_ beginning to worry me."

Newkirk was shaking his head as he stared at Carter. "Worry you? 'ow about worrying me?"

"I just want to help!" Carter protested.

Hogan shook his head. "Okay, whoever ends up being our volunteer, if he wanders, he'll wake them up. We boobytrap all the windows, block the door and LeBeau sleeps on the tunnel bunk. Does that cover everything?"

All eyes turned to Newkirk who heaved a sigh. "I keep saying, I don't know."

Hogan nodded. "We'll find out tonight. I think we'll have you contained now. Even the best magician only has so many tricks up his sleeve."

Carter looked doubtful. "Sir, I don't think you've checked Newkirk's sleeves lately..."

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Hogan was awakened that night out of his sound sleep by a slight scuffing noise. He stayed very still, waiting to identify the noise before he revealed that he was awake. Almost as soon as he was fully awake, he realized what it probably was, but until he saw the lean form shuffling around his room, he didn't move.

Finally having verified it was Newkirk, again, Hogan sat up where he had been sleeping on the upper bunk. "Newkirk." whispered Hogan. "Corporal Newkirk." He realized he had an opportunity to try to find out what the man was doing in his dreams. "Newkirk, what are you doing?"

The figure in the shadows paused and then mumbled before moving to the window and lightly touching the latch. Hogan could actually see his hand outlined in faint light from the searchlights outside as it moved to the string with the rattley cans. There was no rattle, no clinks or sounds as Newkirk gently explored the booby trap before he began unhooking the string.

Hogan slipped off the bunk, having no intention of allowing his corporal to get out of the barracks. "Newkirk..." whispered Hogan urgently. "Newkirk, where are you going?" He paused and then in a fit of inspiration, changed tactics. "Peter, what are you looking for?"

"Can't find..." mumbled Newkirk softly as he continued to try to dismantle the noise maker. The string finally came undone.

Hogan started forward to keep the window closed but the string of cans hit the floor and rattled loudly. He had to grab Newkirk when he jumped and nearly ran facefirst into the wall. "Easy easy..." His grip just managed to stop the man in time. "Wake up! It's okay, shhh..."

Newkirk started to yell and Hogan clamped a hand over his mouth. "Mmmph?" He pulled away finally. "Colonel Hogan?"

"Yes. You were sleep walking. Go back to bed." Hogan followed the confused Brit back to Carter's bunk where he flopped back into the blankets. "Weren't you supposed to have a leash?"

Now yawning widely, Newkirk reached to the floor and fumbled a moment before coming up with the end of a piece of line. "Yes'sir."

Hogan took it with a sigh. "Seems like people don't know how to tie a good knot." He tapped an arm which Newkirk obligingly lifted for Hogan to tie the heavy twine onto. Once Hogan was done, he gave a light tug. "There. You shouldn't be able to untie a bowline in your sleep too easily." He lifted the line to see that it still went to another sleeper and found it disappeared into LeBeau's covers. "Go to sleep. Whatever you're looking for, we'll help you find it in the morning."

"Whaa?" replied a puzzled Newkirk. "I just want to sleep."

"Okay. Stay inside." Hogan gave him a last pat before he headed back to his own room. He was almost comfortable in his blankets before he sighed and climbed back down to replace the booby trap on his window. He even took a few extra moments to tie the string into place firmly. Newkirk wasn't getting out of the barracks again.

Back under his blankets, he shivered and wondered briefly what Newkirk could have been searching for in his dreams. It had to be fairly important if it was making him walk around in his sleep. He sighed deeply as he became sleepy. Knowing the man as he did, it was probably a pretty fraulien.

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End Chapter

Thank you so very much for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you all for the reviews. Private Kappel and Corporal Mueller are both my creations. Mueller appears here and there when I need a somber, vaguely annoyed guard in a story.

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Chapter 7

Private Kappel was walking the regular patrol between the barracks. Corporal Langenscheidt paced along beside him. The pair of Germans were expecting the normal boring routine of camp life at night. Generally speaking, the prisoners would all be sleeping inside the cold barracks, huddled in their bunks. The other guards would be watching from the towers and fencelines, in addition to other patrolling guards just like the pair.

Langenscheidt puffed out a breath and shifted his rifle to the crook of his arm to be able to put both hands to his face. Blowing on his fingers to warm them, he looked at Kappel and then shrugged. "It's very cold tonight."

"Ja." Private Kappel shifted inside his coat. He didn't really like walking patrols at night. It was cold and boring. He usually reminded himself a few times per night that it was infinitely more cold at the Russian Front. Also, he hardly ever had someone shoot at him here in the prisoner of war camp. Sure a few odd things happened on occasion, like the crazy band of commandos that had attacked the camp one night and faded away without hitting anyone or even being seen... but most of the time, he could walk his patrol half-asleep. The prisoners were unusually well behaved for the most part and he wasn't expected to be brutal or inhumane like some guards had told him. Corporal Langenscheidt was an agreeable fellow guard to walk patrols with.

That worthy spoke up again. "Did you hear something?"

"Was?" Kappel focused on his surroundings. They did occasionally run across a prisoner sneaking about, and of course they had that crazy Britisher who had started sleepwalking. "Is that footsteps? Just over there." He pointed at the corner of one of the buildings. They both hefted their rifles and walked faster.

Rounding the corner, they found the English prisoner sleepwalking again. "Donnerwetter..." Langenscheidt started towards the prisoner who was slowly wandering back and forth between two of the buildings. "It is just Corporal Newkirk again."

Kappel grabbed his arm before he could reach the prisoner. "Nein, the kommandant said we were not to hurt the Englander. He was very clear that if one of us harms him, we'll get sent to the Russian Front!" He kept his voice low.

Langenscheidt looked from his fellow guard to the prisoner. "I would not hurt him. I will just wake him and then I can take him back to his barracks. I'm a nice guy! I don't hurt people for no reason." Langenscheidt probably hadn't hurt a person ever, but it seemed impolite to point it out to him.

Kappel eyed the Englishman as he wandered in a wide circle, now mumbling to himself. "Ja, ja, but what if waking him up hurts him? What if he runs when you wake him up and then one of the tower guards will shoot him and then we'll both be in trouble."

Looking uncertain now, Langenscheidt nodded. "You are right... maybe I should grab him so he cannot run?" He lowered his voice even more. "I heard from my Oma that if you wake up a sleepwalker too quickly they could die. Their heart just stops!" He was eying Newkirk himself now, as the thin young prisoner paused in his wandering and then headed off at an angle. "You don't think he would die, do you? It's just a tale my Oma told me, ja?"

Kappel began to follow behind Newkirk at a safe distance. "I think that I don't want to risk a trip to the Russian Front that your grandmother is wrong."

"I think you're right." Langenscheidt hurried to catch up and walk a few steps away from the slowly ambling prisoner. "But what do we do? It's very cold out here... he will freeze."

Kappel hummed as he thought it over and then trotted around the Englishman to stand in front of him, holding his rifle out as a barrier. "Nein... turn back, Englander..." He kept his voice very soft and coaxing. "Go that direction, bitte..."

Newkirk paused briefly and seemed to waver before he tried to go around the obstacle. Kappel kept moving sideways, herding him in a wide arc back towards the barracks. Langenscheidt saw how it was working and joined in. Slowly they began to herd the prisoner back towards the barracks. He seemed quite insistent on any other direction however and it was a slow process.

Hearing some crunching footsteps in the snow, they turned and saw Corporal Mueller approaching them. "Was is los?" Mueller motioned towards the prisoner who had managed to wander around Kappel during the few seconds he was distracted by Mueller's arrival.

"It is the Englander. He is sleepwalking." Kappel tried to get around Newkirk to gently herd him back again.

Mueller frowned at both of them. "Why do you not take him back to the barracks? Prisoners should not be out of their barracks."

Langenscheidt joined Kappell in herding Newkirk back to a path towards the right side of the compound. Newkirk's soft mumblings began to sound annoyed. Langenscheidt spoke quietly to Mueller. "We don't want to cause him any harm waking him up. My Oma said you shouldn't wake up a sleepwalker and Kommandant Klink was very clear that we are not to harm him."

Mueller looked at them for another moment, frowning and shaking his head. Then he stepped up to Newkirk and grabbed him by an arm. "Englander! Wake!" He shook the Englishman roughly, holding his arm firmly as he flailed about and shouted in alarm.

Newkirk was staring around with wide eyes as he realized he was outside and cold. "Blimey... where am I?"

"Come." Mueller kept his tight hold on Newkirk's arm, half dragging him along to Barracks 2. It took a moment at the door, but as soon as it opened up, Mueller shoved the prisoner inside and shut the door again. Turning to the two other guards, he frowned at them. "There. He is inside." said Mueller in a matter-of-fact tone. Then he headed back to his regular patrol leaving the two others behind.

Both of them stared after him and then they looked at each other. Langenscheidt cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, at least if he was harmed, it was Mueller and not us."

Brightening, Kappel agreed. "Ja, and he was still asleep when we were there so he can't report us for anything."

"Let's go patrol on the other side of the compound for a while." Langenscheidt didn't even wait, but headed away from the troublesome Barracks 2 immediately.

Kappel followed close behind him. "Ja, that is a good idea."

* * *

The crashing of the pots off of their booby-trapped chair woke almost everyone, including Hogan. There was a second bang as someone tried to open the barracks door. Hogan was halfway to the door, looking for Newkirk before he realized whoever was banging on the door was on the outside trying to get in. "Get the chair!" A loud voice in heavily accented German demanded that the door be unblocked immediately even as Kinch managed to grab the chair out of the way.

The door swung open suddenly to show a very annoyed looking Corporal Mueller. The guard held a bedraggled Newkirk by the collar of his nightshirt. The stoic German shoved Newkirk inside, reached to grab the door and yanked it shut again without another word.

"Sorry." Newkirk shuffled to the stove and hung his head as he tried to warm up.

Hogan puffed out an exasperated breath. "How did you get out?"

"I don't know." Newkirk showed a flash of annoyance. "I was asleep, remember?"

Before Hogan could reprimand him for the quip, LeBeau spoke up. "He can't help it, mon Colonel." The smaller man was holding the untied rope in one hand. "I never felt him get loose."

Hogan reined in his temper quickly. LeBeau was right. Newkirk wasn't choosing to go through all of this. "It's the second time tonight that he got untied." Rubbing his face, he put a hand onto Newkirk's shoulder and felt him shivering. "Are you okay?"

"Yes sir. Just embarrassed. I don't fancy being woken up by Mueller shaking me either." His eyes flicked around the room at everyone looking at him. The other POWs ranged from concerned to annoyed and he just wanted to go to sleep and wake up in the same place that he'd gone to sleep in. "I'm sorry I woke everyone."

Carter smiled at him, yawning sleepily. "Well, Mueller woke everyone up. If you'd woke even one of us up, you wouldn't have gotten out."

Snorting at his friend, Newkirk narrowed his eyes. "Leave off, you."

Olson climbed up onto his bunk and looked down at them all. "Well, we really seem to be pretty bad at caging Newkirks. So what do we try next?"

Carter shrugged. "We have handcuffs."

"You are not handcuffing me to the bunk." Newkirk's tone wasn't even slightly amused.

"Newkirk..." began Hogan.

"No sir! No one is putting me into restraints. No one." Newkirk's jaw set firmly. "I'd rather get shot by the guards."

"You might end up shot if you don't..." said Hogan with some real heat.

"Mon Colonel..." LeBeau interrupted him gently tugging at the sleeve of his pajamas. "Please... don't. He won't agree to that."

Hogan turned to reprimand LeBeau for opposing his orders and stopped when he saw the appeal in the Frenchman's eyes. "Alright then what do you suggest?"

"I don't know. Maybe we could get Schultz to put an extra guard on the barracks?" said LeBeau.

Newkirk was still angrily eying Carter. "Yeah, do that. Or just let me wander until someone shoots me." He climbed into his upper bunk and lay down facing the wall.

"Newkirk!" Carter started to step up to poke him but was tugged to a stop by Kinch. "But he..."

"Leave him alone." said Kinch. He picked up the heavy twine and tapped Newkirk on the shoulder. "Peter, give me your wrist, we'll try the leash one more time." He waited for a moment. "Please?"

"Fine." Newkirk shook the blanket loose enough to get an arm out and stuck it out towards Kinch and waited impatiently while their radioman tied it on securely. Then he tugged his blanket back into place.

Kinch dug out more string and rigged more ties for the windows. His voice was just a whisper as he bent close to Hogan. "It's only a couple of hours until roll call. Hopefully he won't sleep deeply enough to start wandering." He gestured at the windows. "If so, maybe the new strings will confound him."

Thinking back to how carefully the thoroughly asleep Newkirk had explored the bobby trap on his window before disabling it, Hogan grimaced. "We can hope. He already tried my window earlier. We'll talk in the morning. He can't keep doing this."

"We'll think of something." Kinch turned and motioned LeBeau back to his bunk over the tunnel. "Carter, just go back to sleep and leave him alone."

Carter moved back to his bunk, getting ready to lie down and grumbled. "I still think we should cuff him to the bunk. If we secured him so he can't reach to untie anything, he can't escape." He glanced upward and then looked at Kinch before speaking quietly. "We could just tie him down when he's asleep and he wouldn't even know and if he did, so he's mad, at least he wouldn't get loose."

Before Kinch could respond, Newkirk rolled off his bunk and landed halfway on top of a very startled Carter. Rather than getting off him and apologizing, the Brit grabbed him to slam his back into the floor hard. "You bloody try it and I'll slit your throat when I get loose."

LeBeau was already grabbing Newkirk's arm to tug him away from Carter. "Non! Mon ami, Carter didn't mean it! Let him go!"

Newkirk dropped Carter and shrugged off LeBeau. "As long as he bloody understands." Hogan stepped between Carter and Newkirk looking angry. "And you can sod off too!"

Hogan bristled and LeBeau shoved between the Colonel and Newkirk. "Mon Colonel, please..."

Hogan turned on the short Frenchman. "He's out of line! Threatening Carter and hitting him are way out of line and there's no way any member of the team is going to get away with that."

Newkirk pointed over LeBeau's shoulder. "He bloody threatened me and no one is going to tie me to any ruddy bunk!"

LeBeau twisted around to push Newkirk back. "Shhh, Carter wouldn't do anything bad to you, you know he would not hurt you."

Hogan was still angry but he began to take note of how panicked Newkirk was looking. "What's going on?"

Kinch stepped up and reached to tug a very bewildered Carter to his feet. "It's nothing, sir, really. Are you okay Carter?" He brushed the younger man off carefully. "Peter didn't mean to hurt you, he really didn't. You can't threaten him like that though, he gets a little bit nuts about it."

Hogan was still scowling. "He didn't threaten Newkirk..."

Carter spoke up hesitantly. "I really didn't! I wouldn't! I just want to make sure he doesn't freeze to death or get shot."

Kinch sighed. "Saying you'll tie him up isn't exactly a friendly suggestion either. Especially not when you're threatening to tie him to a bunk, okay?" His look said there was more to it all and Hogan resolved to ask him about it later. "Just let it go, he's really sorry."

Hogan stepped up, taking the situation in hand. "Okay, that's enough excitement for the night. Everyone get to bed before we have the Germans in here too. Carter? You okay?" Carter assured him he was only shaken and quietly crawled into his bunk. "Kinch, everyone, get in your bunks." Hogan walked over to where LeBeau was still whispering with Newkirk. "Are you calmed down now?"

Newkirk had looked more settled but bristled angrily at Hogan's words. "Depends, sir. Is someone going to try tying me down to a bunk?"

"No one is going to force you to do anything." Hogan tried to be reassuring. He was trusting Kinch's judgment on this. "We can talk about it tomorrow. Just try to get some rest, inside the barracks, if possible."

Shaking out his twine leash, Newkirk climbed back up into his bunk and settled in. LeBeau straightened the string out on his end before he went to his bunk. Eventually it became quiet again as Hogan shut the door to his quarters. Kinch lay down but couldn't sleep for quite a while. He could hear soft rustles from either Newkirk or Carter's bunks. He doubted that the Brit would actually go back to sleep voluntarily. He would be too keyed up, and if Carter tossed about in his sleep, Newkirk would definitely wake up.

Kinch let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes. Suddenly he opened them again. They hadn't even found how Newkirk had gotten out this time. He himself had added more ties to the windows but none of them had actually been untied. Kinch frowned for a few moments thinking about it and then gave up. They'd figure out how he'd gotten out in the morning. It wasn't all that long until roll call.

Surely they could keep one stubborn Brit in the barracks through the night. It couldn't be impossible.

* * *

End Chapter

I know, seems a bit out of character but I did have to create a reason they couldn't secure him by tying him to a bunk, so I apologize. They'll explain it. It's just a reason that Carter's idea can't be used. Thank you for reading.


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you to all who have been reviewing and messaging. This time there's a giant glaring *hint* as to what's going on. I hope that you all enjoy.

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In the morning Newkirk didn't look as if he'd rested at all. Almost as soon as roll call and breakfast were done, he'd headed down into the tunnel to begin working on uniforms. He'd been short with everyone but completely rebuffed every attempt at conversation from Carter.

Once down in the tunnels, Newkirk started down to his sewing area but then paused at the radio alcove. Glancing around, he settled into Kinch's chair and tuned the radio to the BBC channel to listen for more news. The British announcer read off a great deal of uplifting reports on how well the Allies were doing in beating the German forces. Newkirk grimaced slightly. He knew some of the reports were false. It was difficult to sort the real news from the public relations reports. They mentioned the German bombings but failed to clarify exactly which areas had been hit and Newkirk closed his eyes listening to the little bit of home. All of his worry and dread built up as he waited. The announcer repeated most of the news again. Just as Newkirk was about to give up, Sergeant Baker appeared stepping into the alcove.

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't know you were in here..." Baker was startled but recovered quickly. "I can come back in ten minutes, if you're using the radio... but Colonel Hogan wanted me to send out that list..."

Newkirk pulled the headset off and slapped it into the sergeant's hand. "No, I'm done." He headed to his alcove to sew but suddenly realized that he was too keyed up to sew. Pacing back and forth just outside the sewing room, he tried to shove aside his worry. Finally he gave up and headed back up to the barracks, he could retrieve the packet of heavy needles. Those were best for sewing the heavy outer coat material anyway.

* * *

Back in the barracks, Kinch found Carter sitting forlornly at the table. Hogan was discussing finding more coffee with LeBeau. The Frenchman had traded almost a pound of the precious stuff away for staples to feed everyone better food for nearly a month. At the time it seemed a good trade, but then, at the time, they'd all had coffee. Now he was stretching the little remaining coffee with a lot of poor additives and replacements.

"I'll lean on Klink later today and see if I can get him to cough up some of the missing Red Cross packages. That should get us enough coffee for you to stretch until we can get some more." Hogan slung an arm around LeBeau's shoulders. "We all know you do the best at stretching the foodstuffs."

Kinch agreed. "And LeBeau is the only person I know that can make even the worst rations taste good."

Now LeBeau was smiling and looking pleased. "Merci. I try."

Hogan noticed Carter sitting quietly and left LeBeau to go lean on the table. "Hey Carter, I thought you'd be outside. I mean, you can make more explosives but if there's a little sun, might as well enjoy the slow days, right?"

"Yeah, I guess." Carter was picking at the seam on one of his gloves. "I'll get the explosives done, sir. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried about the explosives. What's wrong, Carter? Usually I have to rein you in to keep you from playing with explosives. Are you missing ingredients?"

"No sir. It's fine." Carter looked up at the empty bunk over his own and then back at Hogan. "I promise, I'll get it all done."

LeBeau slipped over to settle on the bench beside the young man. "Why are you so quiet?" He elbowed him lightly. "Come, we'll go outside and find some of the other Americans and maybe play baseball?"

"No, I should just go work on stuff." Carter looked at LeBeau. "You're Newkirk's friend. Can you tell him I'm sorry? I mean, so he'll listen and not be mad at me anymore?"

LeBeau exchanged a look with Kinch. "Oh Carter, he will get over it. Just don't say you're going to tie him up like that, okay?"

"Well I only was going to do it to keep him safe!" objected Carter.

Kinch came to sit at the table too, throwing one look to check that the tunnel entrance was closed. "It's not the leash that he objects to, but the idea that you'd force him to be tied up where he couldn't get loose." He held up a hand to forestall the repeated protest. "It doesn't matter why you want to do it. Some of the guards tied him to a bunk once and he gets a little crazy at the idea now, okay? Don't ask him about it. Just don't suggest it either."

Hogan bristled slightly. "When did this happen? Who did it? WHY would they do that?" He hesitated. "Did... did they..."

"Non." said LeBeau firmly. "It was a long time ago, mon colonel. The guards were angry because Newkirk got out of the cooler, you know how he is. But they didn't want to tell the kommandant so they tied him up in one of the empty barracks and left him there." LeBeau's face grew hard. "It was cruel and they just wanted to punish him for making them look bad. We didn't know he wasn't in the cooler until Kinch heard him in the barracks a couple days later."

Kinch nodded. "We told the guards if they didn't let him go right away, we'd tell Klink and the Red Cross and I think LeBeau told some of them he would poison their food... whatever it took to make them let him go." He gazed at Hogan. "Please, don't ask him about it. Just let it go and don't suggest tying him up."

"Alright." Hogan thought quietly. "You should have told me about this."

"Mon colonel..." LeBeau suddenly smiled ruefully. "You must understand, a great many things happened before you arrived here. Many things that some of us had to forget about."

"Okay, so how did our sneak get out of the barracks last night? I thought we got all the entrances secured?" Hogan moved on. He resolved to look into all of this at a later date. Right now, they needed to figure out the more specifics of how his man was escaping.

"We're not sure, sir," said Carter. "We really searched the barracks this morning but there just wasn't anything we could find."

Hogan frowned and seemed ready to object and LeBeau spoke up defending Carter. "He's right, mon Colonel. All the traps were still on the windows, I was asleep on the tunnel entrance and we all heard the door was still secured. He must have found another way out, but we couldn't find it."

After a few seconds of thought, Hogan put on a smile and clapped LeBeau on the shoulder. "Well, it's only natural, Newkirk is sneakier than the rest of us."

"Knew me bloody ears were burning for a reason." groused Newkirk as he climbed up from the tunnel. He looked haggard and only grunted in response to greetings from LeBeau and Kinch. Carter earned a glare when he tried to ask after him.

Hogan stifled the desire to grab and shake the Brit. He knew the man was tired and out of sorts from the sleepwalking incidents and was justifiably angry with Carter. Hogan sipped at a lukewarm cup of coffee and watched Newkirk hunting through his footlocker for something. Hogan usually let the men solve their own interpersonal issues. Normally the 'laurel and hardy' pair would never be mad more than an hour or so before they'd be back together again, plotting mischief or arguing over a game of cards.

"LeBeau, did you take my pack of 'eavy needles again?" Newkirk slammed the lid to his footlocker as he gave up his search.

LeBeau rolled his eyes. "Non, why would I take your needles? You took them to the rec hall when you were helping with the canvas raincoats. Maybe you left them there."

"Maybe." Newkirk got to his feet and headed for the door.

Carter jumped up to intercept him. "I'll go look for you!"

Putting a hand out to push the eager young American further away from him, Newkirk scowled at him. "And just 'ow are you going to find something when you don't even know where I was using them in the bloody rec 'all? Useless git." He stalked out through the door before anyone could protest, leaving a dejected Carter behind to slump down at the table.

"Carter, you know he's just angry. He'll get over it." LeBeau gave their friend a pat. "He just has a hot temper."

Hogan agreed. "You two are always having fights. Never lasts long, so hang in there, okay?" He started back to his office when the barracks' door opened to a very bright-eyed Newkirk returning followed closely by Schultz. "Hello Schultz, what can we do for you?"

"Schultz 'as our mail!" spoke up Newkirk. He was hovering at Schultz's elbow. "Go on then, Schultzy, give over!" The Brit was joined in his entreaties by the rest of the barracks immediately. Mail call was always a grand event for everyone. The men crowded up to the hapless German guard, all of them yelling at once.

Colonel Hogan waded into the mess and rescued Schultz by taking the mailbag away. "Okay okay! Pipe down guys!" In sharp contrast to how they mobbed Schultz, ignoring all pleas and orders to back off, the POWs all quieted and backed up for their Colonel. "Sorry Schultz, they're just excited, you know how it is."

"They are animals, Colonel Hogan! Puuulease! You return the mailbag later!" Schultz took the opportunity to scoot out through the door and escaped the minor mob scene.

"Okay... calm down!" Hogan began calling out names and handing over the prized letters to each of his men. Carter was ecstatic to receive two letters from his family while LeBeau gathered up three from both family and a girl in Paris. Even the more somber Kinch broke into a grin as he plucked a letter from his parents out of Hogan's outstretched hand. Hogan tucked the next to last letter into his own jacket and handed the last one to Olson.

Olson crowed happily as he claimed his mail. "Best thing to happen all week!" He immediately took to his bunk, flopping onto his back and pulling the pages out of the envelope. "Hey, censors hardly touched mine!" He held up the paper that only had a few holes cut into it.

Hogan smiled as he watched the men comparing the amount sliced out of the letters and then noted Newkirk looking downcast. "Hey, Newkirk, nothing this time, but I'm sure you'll get something next mail call, right?"

Carter suddenly took notice and climbed back out of his bunk. "Hey buddy, you can share my letters, I mean... you can read one while I read the other, it's not from your own folks or anything but..."

Newkirk flashed a look of annoyance that seemed excessive even with his current black mood. "Carter, that's just stupid. I don't know your bleeding Yank family."

Hogan stepped in. "Ease off, Newkirk. Carter's just trying to be nice."

"Yessir." Newkirk's tone was flat but he wasn't fooling Hogan. "I better go find those needles, sir." He left before Hogan could say anything else to him.

Carter folded his letter in his hand and unfolded it again before he went back to his bunk. Hogan walked over to look in at him. "That was a nice thing to offer, Carter. I'm sure Newkirk would appreciate it if he weren't being such a jerk right now."

"It's okay, sir. He's just still mad." Carter began to stare at one of his letters, pretending to not be bothered.

Olson gave a short bark of laughter. "Well, not to be mean or anything, but Newkirk _is_ a bit spoiled. He usually gets mail almost every single mail call, and usually more than one letter too. He writes more correspondence than most newsmen do!"

Hogan smiled as a little bit of laughter broke out. "Well, my mother did tell me that to get letters, I had to write letters, so I guess that's the secret. In fact, I think I'm going to go see what dear old mom has to say to me and then... I'm going to write her a nice long reply." There were murmurs of agreement from those still paying attention and Hogan disappeared into his office.

* * *

End Chapter

Poor Carter. Thank you for reading. Readers appreciated, reviewers adored.


	9. Chapter 9

Hello all! Sorry for the late update but I'll post another chapter really soon to make up for the lateness. Many things going on here so I forgot! Thank you to Fluffykitty12 for the reminder. As always, I could never do this without all friends. Thank you guys!

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CHAPTER 9

Kinch was reading his letter for the fifth time when Newkirk returned to the barracks with his packet of needles. "Hey Peter."

Newkirk glanced over and paused on his way to the tunnel entrance. "What do _you_ want now!?"

"Don't bite my head off!" said Kinch angrily. "Just because you're tired and mad at Carter is no reason to be so pissy at everyone in the camp." Kinch wasn't really more than slightly annoyed but Newkirk's dark mood had lasted quite long enough now and he wanted to shake him out of it. Kinch rarely showed any temper and when he did, it would make everyone pay attention, even stubborn Cockneys. Sometimes, _especially_ stubborn Cockneys.

Newkirk had the grace to look at least a little guilty. "Sorry Kinch." He turned the packet over his his hands a few times. His eyes flicked over to Carter briefly before he went over to sit next to him in Carter's bunk. "So..." His eyes glanced at Carter for a second and then he began to examine the needle pack with great attention as if it were of vital importance. "So, what's your mum 'ave to say?"

Carter had automatically pulled back into his bunk to make space and watched the Brit warily until his question. Then he grabbed up his first letter. "Well, Mama had to knit a second set of baby booties for one of the cousins who had twins. They sure weren't expecting that!" Carter jumped right into telling his friend all the details, often haring off on long rambling tangents. Rather than correct him, Newkirk listened patiently, encouraging him with the occasional comment or question.

Anyone else would have to go through the awkward apology stage. Carter and Newkirk somehow managed without ever bothering. Carter's annoying habits rolled off Newkirk without much effect. Newkirk's snappy temper rarely dampened Carter even when it was directed at him. The two would squabble over the most minor things and within minutes be back together as if nothing had happened. Newkirk and LeBeau on the other hand could hold grudges for weeks, although there was some debate as to whether they were actually serious or if most of it was purely for form at this point. However, let someone else attempt to pick on LeBeau and Newkirk would readily leap to his defense, regardless of any fights between them.

Kinch looked over when Carter began trying to convince Newkirk he should rest instead of working on uniforms. Somehow in the ensuing argument, Newkirk ended up giving in and climbing into his upper bunk. With everyone still absorbed in their mail and many writing responses, it was quiet. It didn't take very long before Newkirk was asleep.

Hogan emerged to glance with surprise at the suddenly happy Carter and sleeping Newkirk. When he looked to LeBeau for an explanation, the Frenchman nodded slightly towards Kinch. Hogan walked over being casual and leaned on the radioman's bunk. "So all is well now?"

"More or less, sir." replied Kinch. "He just needed a little push." Kinch smiled. "I'm good at pushing Newkirk. When needed, that is."

"Kinch, you're good at pushing anyone at all." Hogan pointed a finger in a mock reproach. "Just don't push me, I'm an officer." He paused just long enough for Kinch to begin to think it was a slight reprimand about respecting rank before adding a quip. "I'm delicate, you know."

Kinch's expression of slight concern turned to amusement. "I'll keep that in mind, sir."

"So why is Newkirk sleeping?" Hogan kept his voice low. "Wouldn't it be better to try to get him extra tired so he won't want to walk in his sleep?"

Kinch shook his head. "We tried letting him get tired, sir. Now we'll try the opposite."

LeBeau's head poked over the edge of the bunk. "Oui. Maybe he won't wander if he's not sleeping so deeply?" He looked over to be certain Newkirk was still asleep before pulling a string of bells carefully from under the edge of his blanket. "I got these from Schultz. When Newkirk goes to sleep tonight, I will tie them to his ankle and if he gets up, the bells will wake him up... or wake us up, either way."

Hogan frowned. "Well, okay but why wait until he's asleep? Won't he be angry all over again?"

"No sir." said Kinch. "He'd only get angry about being restrained, the bells won't stop him. But I don't see why he won't just untie those just like he did the leash."

LeBeau shrugged, putting the bells away carefully. "He knew he had a leash, so he untied it in his sleep. If he doesn't know about the bells, maybe he won't untie them."

Hogan mused it over. "Worth a shot." He turned to look at the shapeless lump on the top bunk across the room. "Even if Klink ordered the guards not to shoot him... it's still too dangerous for him to keep sneaking out. We'll have to figure out something." He took a deep breath. "You know, he just started doing it, so something has to have triggered it." His expression changed. "What if it's just that we haven't had any missions lately? Once London starts sending us out every night, he'll probably stop again."

Kinch didn't look convinced but nodded anyway. "Could be, sir. At any rate, if we're out most of the night, he won't be sleeping anyway, much less sleepwalking."

The barracks door opened and Schultz came in, stomping the snow off his boots until Hogan motioned him to be quiet. "Easy Schultz..."

"What? What did I do?" Schultz lowered his voice further at Hogan's urging. "What did I do?" whispered Schultz.

"Newkirk is asleep." Hogan pointed up at the bunk.

"Oh." Schultz stood up, now unconcerned. "The Englander is sleeping." Suddenly the burly guard frowned. "Why is he sleeping in the middle of the day?" His face got a distressed look. "Colonel Hogan, you did not knock Newkirk out again? I told you... I told you not to do these things, please Colonel Hogan!"

"Noo, Schultz! He's sleeping so that he won't sleepwalk tonight." Hogan smiled reassuringly.

"Oh." Schultz thought that over a few seconds. "I thought maybe there was monkey business planned for tonight and that is why he was sleeping during the day." Hogan barely had time to look worried over Schultz's sudden burst of suspicion before a grin broke out on the guard's jolly face. "Heehee, no no... I joke with you! I know Newkirk is a good boy."

"Ah ha-ha. Schultz, you got me." Hogan pointed at him and chuckled agreeably while telling his heart to stop racing. "You're so funny, Schultz."

"Ja." Schultz straightened up and looked around at everyone. "You have my mailbag, ja?" LeBeau hopped off his bunk and went to retrieve it. "Danke. Cockroach." Taking a heavy breath, Schultz looked down at Colonel Hogan. "The Kommandant said for me to make sure that everyone is behaving. I think some of the big shots in Berlin have been talking to him again. So he tells me to go check on all the prisoners again."

"Yeah, well, you are the sergeant of the guard and probably the only guard that the kommandant trusts to have that keen eye and the intellect to catch any of us POWs if we were up to anything." Hogan nodded at LeBeau.

The Frenchman immediately jumped in on cue. "Oui! None of the guards are as observant as Schultz! We could never get anything over on you!" He spat. "Bah!"

Schultz looked pleased. "Well, I am the senior sergeant. I have had many years of experience." He chuckled. "I have to go and check the other barracks now. If the Englander walks in his sleep again tonight, I will let him walk my patrols with me. Then he will be too tired to walk in his sleep any more."

Hogan shushed him but laughed softly himself at the offer. "Thanks Schultz, but I think it's against the rules to make an enlisted man work in his sleep."

Schultz made a face and mumbled good-naturedly to himself as he left. "Just make sure there is no monkey business."

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End Chapter

Short and sweet. New chapter will be posted very soon!


	10. Chapter 10

Apologies for the long time since my last update. Life... it happens. Still, thank yous to my betas and friends and to all the reviewers.

* * *

Chapter 10

The rest of the day passed without much notice. Carter managed to get enough Americans enthused to play a baseball game but they ended up having to coax some English to make the other team. Once the game was in full swing, the rules had an alarming tendency to switch from baseball to cricket without warning. Carter wasn't exactly certain which game brought the idea of tackling the ball holder but it seemed like everyone enjoyed that aspect so he kept quiet.

The third time that an English player ran back from the first base to the home plate, Carter had to figure out how to mesh the two games. The ensuing discussion involved both teams, half a dozen bystanders, one confused Langenscheidt and a great deal of arm waving and shouting.

Kinch was sitting on the bench outside of their hut watching. Newkirk emerged from the barracks, blinking at the wan sunlight before settling onto the bench beside Kinch to light up a cigarette. "Hey Kinch. What the ruddy 'ell are they playing?"

Kinch held out a hand and was given a cigarette. "I think it was supposed to be baseball, but your English pals decided that it should be cricket. Then someone tackled one of the cricketeers and now they're playing mayhem."

"Ahh, rugby." Newkirk chuckled then winced as someone made a flying tackle on Carter. "Ouch. I didn't think Carter even 'ad the ball."

"He didn't. I think they're just tackling random people now." Kinch inhaled deeply on his cigarette and eyed the Brit for a moment. "You feel any better now?"

"I'm fine." Newkirk leaned back on the bench, resting his back on the barracks and crossing his legs. His lazy eyes were checking every person in the compound, guards and POWs alike. He finally turned a placid gaze on the tall black man beside him. "I'm sorry about all the fuss. I feel like a right nutter waking up out in the compound." Looking back at the compound blankly, Newkirk spoke very quietly. "I'm not going to sleep tonight."

"Hey, you gotta sleep sometime." said Kinch.

"Yeah but I just 'ad a nap. I'll drink some coffee and just stay up. Won't be much different than 'aving a mission and not getting back until near roll call." Newkirk shrugged a bit. "Once the other blighters all go to sleep, I'll get up." He glanced over at Kinch. "Just figured I better tell someone. If I tell any of the others then they'd want to stay up with me."

"I can sit up with you." said Kinch.

"No, mate. No reason for both of us to lose sleep. I'll be fine." Newkirk lifted his cigarette to his lips and ignored the slight tremors in his hand. It was nothing. "I'm going down to the radio room, see if there's a BBC report on."

"Man, Peter... you know it's just going to be full of news about London getting bombed. Why do you have to torment yourself?" Kinch's voice was full of sympathy.

"Kinch, if your neighborhood were being bombed every night, wouldn't you want to hear every report you could?" Newkirk took a long drag on the cigarette before tossing the butt onto the ground. "I'm going downstairs." He waved a hand at the mob of ball players. "If they start to murder Carter, call me up. I'll want to watch." His smile didn't touch his eyes.

Kinch smiled back anyway. "Yeah. No problem." He could clearly see the pain in his friend's eyes and knew that any attempt at consolation would be met with a sharp rebuff. Their prickly thief kept far too much to himself.

Newkirk went inside and climbed down the ladder to head for the radio room. If his timing was good, he should be able to catch the London news reports.

Newkirk came awake all at once, gasping and attempting to flail away from the tight grip on his arms. "No! NO!" He blinked at Kinch who was holding him firmly to keep him from falling over. "Whaa? I wasn't... I wasn't sleepwalking, was I?"

Kinch shook his head and smiled. "No, you just fell asleep on the radio desk. Looks like you were listening to the BBC and dozed off." He let go of Newkirk's arm. "Was there anything new on the BBC?"

"No." Newkirk rubbed his face and shrugged. "Same reports. Keep winning the war, Germany is losing..." His accent changed to a posh upper crust British one. "Keep a stiff upper lip, wot wot? Cheerio!" His wan smile didn't fool Kinch.

"Sorry, I wish they'd give you some good news for a change." Kinch motioned him aside and settled behind the radio himself. "Colonel Hogan wanted me to check in with London. He's been wondering why they've kept us on lockdown."

"No telling. All those officers, no wonder London can't make up their mind." Newkirk blinked a few times and reached to adjust his greatcoat. "I'll go upstairs." He paused after only a step and glanced at Kinch. "Can I get some of your paper?"

Kinch hummed absently, already adjusting the dials. "Paper? For forging? What letterhead you need?"

"No mate, writing paper, I'm out. For a letter." said Newkirk with deliberately casual offhand manner.

"Oh sure." Kinch put on his earphones. "In my footlocker, under my brown shirt." Newkirk started away after a murmured thanks and Kinch turned slightly to call after him. "Hey, tell Mavis I said hello and that I'm trying to keep you out of trouble, okay?"

"Yeah... bloody Yanks think you're all comedians." Newkirk flashed a quick grin back at his friend. His sister had occasionally sent notes to some of his mates that he mentioned in his letters. She also had chastised her brother when he failed to write her on a semi-regular schedule. When he'd landed in the cooler for two months once, she had sent a scathing letter to LeBeau first and then had actually sent a harshly scolding letter to the kommandant of the camp for not allowing him to send his regular letter to her. It was one of the few times Newkirk had seen a human side to that early kommandant. He had come to the cells, checked on his health and then handed over writing supplies for him to immediately write her a reply. The kommandant hadn't given him any of her letters, explaining with a haughty air that he was still being punished for his escape attempt. But the letter to Mavis went out. Once out of the cooler, he'd told his barracks-mates that the kommandant had looked as if he feared Mavis Newkirk would show up on his doorstep with a wooden spoon to whap him if he didn't allow her brother to write to her.

Pushing aside the pangs he felt at missing his sister, Newkirk climbed up into the barracks and went to find the paper. It didn't take him very long to write out a letter and then he sat and read it over a few times. He felt his mood beginning to turn dark and abruptly stood up and put the letter into an envelope and took it to Hogan's office to put on his desk. Then he headed outside to walk around the edge of the fenceline. He let his eyes halfway close and sauntered along with his hands tucked deep in his coat pockets.

The guards on the fence and in the towers got nervous whenever they saw the familiar Brit paying any extra attention to the fences. He was known to be one of the POWs who went "wire-crazy" and made unwise and often absurd escape attempts. His acquiring friends in the camp hadn't lessened the attempts, although his psychosis over being a POW was much milder. It had taken Hogan with his crazy sabotage operation to bring him down among the rest of the lunatics inhabiting the stalag.

He smiled to himself. Hogan's early attempts at controlling the Brit had been almost as disastrous as the German's. Even now, he was the least tame of Hogan's crew. Newkirk lifted his gaze to one of the guard towers as he grew closer to it. He watched the guard eying him. The guard called his fellow guard over to look as well and both of them watched him carefully.

Out of sheer mischievousness, he stopped and eyed the tower and took a few steps back along the warning wire to gaze solemnly at the fence. Newkirk watched with great amusement as the tower guards got more and more agitated.

Finally one of them couldn't take his staring at the fence any longer and shouted in German at him to back away from the warning wire.

Newkirk waited until the guard repeated the order in an even more shrill tone before he tilted his face up to look at them in the tower. He gave them his most expressionless face until he saw the guard draw breath to shout again before he turned slowly to look at a pair of rapidly approaching guards that had heard the shouting. Watching them for a few seconds, he finally turned and continued his careless saunter along the fenceline, to all appearances completely unbothered by the guards. Inwardly he felt a great deal of amusement. One of the first things Hogan had gotten him to do was to "distract" the guards on one side of the camp so that Kinch and LeBeau could work on a hidden opening on the far side of the camp, before they'd devised the more elaborate exit routes. All Newkirk had to do was to go look like he was _thinking_ about going over the wire for all the guards to immediately go on alert.

The very familiar itch made his arm twitch a few times. The barbed wire still seemed to close in on some days. Sure, they had the emergency tunnel. Even better, they had missions outside the wire. Even when he ended up outside the wire trying to outrun an Allied bombing run, he still felt the thrill deep in his chest that screamed ' _freedom_ ' to him. Of course, that thrill was rather deeply hidden underneath the terror of bombs falling too.

He put aside those thoughts too. Staying in the camp for nearly a week now made him a little bit twitchy. He should ask Hogan to let him out, just to be outside the wire. His lips curled slightly. Or he would just go out and not get caught. It was always easier to feign ignorance than to gain permission.

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End Chapter

I'll update much sooner for the next chapter! Promise! Apologies for the lateness again and thank you to all the reviewers and a big thank you to the very kind Kirin for checking up on me! This chapter is dedicated to you!


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you all for the reviews! As promised, a fresh chapter!

Chapter 11

Newkirk's feet took him back to the barracks in plenty of time to join his mates in heading out for the poor fare they called supper. The food supplies were getting low and without any runs outside the wire, even LeBeau was having trouble making extra meals for them. While they were eating, Newkirk promised to lift ingredients for the Frenchman. LeBeau rather sulkily reminded him that he'd promised it earlier and then failed to follow through. That minor argument had taken them through the rest of the so-called meal and all the way back to the barracks, through washing up and although their voices dropped to mutters and whispers, through roll call. Schultz's repeated demands and then pleas for quiet went completely unnoticed.

Finally everyone was ready for sleep and Hogan made certain all their exit points were secured and eyed Newkirk closely. Newkirk looked sheepish and climbed up into his bunk and rolled up in his blanket so he wouldn't have to look his commander in the eye. They should have been relaxing in this rare down time. Instead they were all worrying over the one stupid git that couldn't manage to stay in his bunk through the night.

Newkirk sighed heavily as Schultz came in to announce lights-out. He carefully counted heads, pausing to squint at certain men to be sure they were the right ones. Newkirk's blanket was tugged sharply and he rolled over and glared at the big German. "Wot Schultzy? I told you I'm not reading you any more bedtime stories!" There was general laughter while Schultz scowled at him.

"You just stay inside." Schultz shook one chubby finger at him before he shut the lights off and left. Kinch placed the chair and the pots and pans and then went to his bunk.

LeBeau clambered up to tug at Newkirk's blankets again, making him grumble. He held up the string. "Mon ami, give me your wrist." Newkirk tried grumbling indistinctly at him and was treated to a litany of French curses.

"Fine, fine... I can't stand it when you yell at me in French... I can't tell if you're cursing me or telling me 'ow beautiful me eyes are in the moonlight." Newkirk yelped obligingly when LeBeau smacked him and gave up a wrist for his string leash. A completely useless precaution, considering it hadn't worked even once that he knew of. He yawned as LeBeau tied the string in place and went to the false bunk. "Good night, Louis."

"Dormez bien, mon ami." LeBeau's voice sounded extra tired and Newkirk resolved to actually fetch the extra foodstuffs the next day.

Newkirk lay still, keeping his breathing deep and even. Within a few minutes of the barracks quieting, he heard a soft creak. LeBeau was getting out of the false bunk. Newkirk concentrated on not reacting when he heard cloth brush the wood of his own bunk. A slight shift in the weight told him LeBeau was climbing up and he couldn't help a slight tensing in his muscles.

There was a soft touch at his ankle and he felt LeBeau attaching a string oh-so-carefully to his leg. Newkirk waited for him to tighten it, or to reach for the other leg but the weight on his bunk shifted slightly again and he heard the Frenchman return to the tunnel covering.

Now he itched to figure out what his friend had done. Any other time, he would immediately suspect some prank. Waiting until he was certain that everyone was asleep seemed to take forever. Newkirk stared up at the dark ceiling and timed the searchlights, double-checking against his memory to see if they had changed. Beneath him, Carter shifted in his sleep and mumbled softly. Kinch was the last one to fall asleep, his snores sounding remarkably like the soft buzzing of one of his beloved radios.

Finally he sat up and listened as Carter turned over yet again. The American pyro tossed and turned in his sleep nearly every night. It had taken Newkirk a month to be able to sleep through it at first. He had spent most of that month ready to punch the young man in fact. Now he knew if Carter was still, Carter was likely awake and most likely brooding over something. Carter abruptly mumbled again and Newkirk scooted down his bunk a little and reached to untie the wrist leash first. He was very careful not to move his ankle at all. His fingers found the heavy twine and untied it first. Then he traced the length of the string, expecting to find it leading off the bunk to someone, like his wrist leash. Instead his sensitive fingertips found cold metal and explored it carefully with the lightest of touches. Finally they located the same string to another metal round object until he started to lift one up and heard the slight metallic scrape of the ringer inside the bell.

He exhaled softly. Trust LeBeau to figure out another way to booby trap him. Climbing down from the top bunk, the Brit paused when Carter rolled over and draped an arm around his ankle. Newkirk had to ease his leg away slowly, causing Carter to snort and begin to mumble louder.

Twisting himself down to speak in the softest of whispers, Newkirk murmured. "Go look at the rabbits, Andrew."

Carter's eyebrows went up and he sighed happily in his sleep. "Rabbits... nuuuhhh... so soft..." He rolled over and sighed again.

Shaking his head, Newkirk let himself down onto the floor and settled at the community table. His worn deck of cards occupied his hands as he shuffled them slowly. Practicing manipulating the deck was easy even in the darkness. This old deck's cards were individuals to his sensitive fingers. Each had it's own subtle ceases and bumps, the ragged spots on the edge or soft corners. He hadn't even marked them deliberately. They had just acquired the little flaws over months of handling. Even if he wanted to, he wasn't able to ignore the little markings and tells. Newkirk did many of his tricks and cheats strictly by memory and was capable of counting cards even with a pristine deck.

He passed quite some time, sitting and concentrating on nothing but the cards. His fingers ran through flexibility exercises, stretching the tendons of each hand slowly. But eventually his thoughts turned to home and his sister Mavis and worries bubbled up from where he'd pushed them away. During daylight he could put them aside and ignore them. But the night's quiet and darkness called them up and he felt each possible scenario circling in his mind. He also felt the desire for sleep building up.

He tried again to focus on the cards, handling them one by one. But his mind pulled up memories. Some days he wanted to tell Hogan to go stuff himself and then escape back to London regardless of orders or covert missions or even loyalty to his mates here in camp. But every time that urge rose up, somehow he would be reminded that Hogan needed him and his special talents. Carter could make explosives, LeBeau could cook anything, Kinch could build or repair anything with wires and Hogan... he smiled into the darkness. Hogan could con anyone into going along with his wild schemes, he could convince a person that black was white and most importantly he could somehow inspire a man and make him _b_ _elieve_ in things bigger than himself. Even when that man was a world-wise suspicious Cockney conman. Maybe especially then.

Newkirk smirked and then rubbed his hands over his head, ruffling up his short hair and wishing for a cigarette. He would have to climb back up onto his bunk to retrieve them though and he didn't really want to risk waking Carter. What he wanted to do was to pace and stretch to wake himself up. His eyes went to the door and he let out a soft sigh. Going out of the barracks at night was forbidden. At most camps, 'forbidden' meant you got shot if you did it. Here, it meant that you at least thought about it before you went ahead and did it anyway.

Getting up, he padded over to the door and carefully removed the pans, setting them aside silently. When he went back inside, he could put them all back. After all, he'd been getting out unseen in his sleep. Cracking the door open, he looked for the guard that should be outside. Sure enough he could just make out the edge of a very large shadow as a searchlight came by. He slipped out, hugging himself against the cold and settled onto the bench next to a half asleep Schultz.

He looked up at the slowly blinking guard. "Hey Schultzy, spare a cigarette for a mate?"

"Ja..." Schultz dug into his pockets and found a pack to offer the Brit one. He automatically handed over the lighter as well. Then he blinked again and twisted suddenly. "Newkirk! Nein, nein, you go back in the barracks!"

"Shhhh, Schultz, do you want to wake the whole bleeding camp?" Newkirk shushed him. "Boy, you'd think a bloke could step out to clear his head for a moment." He took a long drag on the cigarette and held the breath in. When he let it out slowly, he relaxed a bit. "I'll go back inside in just a second."

"Oh nein, you are up to monkey business!" Schultz found his rifle to pick up. "Go back inside the barracks!"

"In a minute, Schultzy... calm down." Newkirk gestured to him. "It's too bloody cold to stay out here for long anyway, right?" He raised his eyebrows at Schultz. "Right? Come on then, just sit a minute and let me 'ave a smoke."

"One minute." Schultz shifted his bulk back on the bench and leaned against the barracks. "You cause too much trouble." He eyed Newkirk as if he feared he would disappear into thin air. It wouldn't be the first time, after all. This time, the Englishman was simply sitting and smoking though. Schultz relaxed. "At least if you are outside, you are awake, ja?"

"Yeah, I'm really not fond of this whole business of me sleepwalking around. It's not pleasant at all to wake up somewhere different than I went to sleep." said Newkirk softly. He took another long drag and let the smoke out in soft rings.

The two of them sat in the quiet night. They were on opposite sides of the war, one German versus one Englishman. A jailer versus a prisoner. An upstanding business owner and family man versus a ne'er-do-well vagabond and pickpocket. The oddest thing about the pair seated together might have been that the same thing that drove such a definitive wedge between them was the only reason they'd ever met. Newkirk snorted softly and quoted his little French mate. "It's a crazy war."

Just as he finished his smoke, he glanced over and saw Schultz's head droop forward as he slipped back into a sound sleep. Newkirk couldn't help but shake his head and reached to catch the rifle as it slipped free of the lax grip. He shook the bits of snow off and propped it on the sleeping guard's leg instead. Then he leaned back against the barracks wall and shivered. Just one more moment and he would go back in. The cold should be clearing his head and instead it seemed to be inducing sleep.

In the quiet, there was no witness to notice the two sleeping figures outside of Barracks 2. By the time that a pair of guards came strolling by, roaming the compound and looking for anything out of place, they smirked to each other at the sleeping Sergeant of the Guard on his bench... alone.

Neither of them noticed the shuffling footprints that led away from the barracks. When Schultz woke up with a start, he looked around and wondered if he'd dreamed about the crazy Englander being outside. He decided that if Newkirk had been outside, at least he'd come to his senses and gone back inside out of the cold.

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End Chapter


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you to all who reviewed and also, I'd like to take a second to thank everyone who nominated so many of my works for Papa Bear Awards. It's quite an honor! Thank yous to all who help me write too, especially Drago and LadyJaye and Karama. My friend River puts up with entirely too much nonsense as well. You guys are the best.

On to more story without further A/N

Chapter 12

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Hogan woke up to Olson's concerned face hovering over him. "Sorry sir, he's gone. Rope's untied and I don't know when he got out. The chair was gone from the door." As Hogan slid off of his bunk and dressed, Olson continued. "LeBeau is already out trying to find him and we've checked the roof of each building, and Kinch is checking the tunnels."

"Damn. Where was our barrack's guard? Wait, it's Schultz tonight, was he sleeping again?" asked Hogan irritably. "Use the tunnels and get the other barracks to check, maybe he wandered into the wrong barracks and went to sleep under another bunk."

"Yes sir." Olson paused on the way to the false bunk. "I'm sorry but... it's below freezing out there. What if..."

"Don't borrow trouble. Just find him." Hogan watched as Olson hurried down into the tunnel. Cracking open the door, he found Schultz standing guard. "Psst! Schultz? Hey, when were you gone?"

The chubby guard pointed to himself. "Me? I have been on duty the entire time, Colonel Hogan. I take my responsibilities very seriously." When Hogan merely raised an eyebrow, Schultz deflated a little. "I might have been standing guard in a slightly different post than right here... but only for a very short time and only to warm up."

Hogan sighed and slipped out to stand next to him, zipping up his flight jacket as he did. "Yeah, so you left your post for coffee in the guard's messhall. When?"

"I think that it sounds better the way I say it." Hogan's glare made Schultz waver. "It was only half an hour ago... maybe an hour." He paused to think. "Could have been maybe two hours ago..."

"Thanks Schultz, you're a wealth of information. You let Newkirk out and now he's been outside in a nightshirt for two hours. He's probably dead already thanks to you." said Hogan harshly.

"No! The Englander is missing again? He told me he would go back inside!" said Schultz.

Hogan shot a sharp look at the guard. "What do you mean 'go back inside'?"

"Corporal Newkirk came out but only for a moment, he said." Schultz was frowning. "It is not my fault, Colonel Hogan. He said he was going right back inside. He was not asleep."

"That's just great Schultz." Hogan was already stepping back inside. "Okay, he could have left the barracks two hours ago, we need to find him now. I'll get Schultz to start the guards searching the compound. Williams..." A lanky young Air Force private was already putting his coat on. "Go check the emergency tunnel entrance and see if it's been used." Hogan reached to take Carter by his coat sleeve and shoved him at the door. "Carter, take one of the guards and start searching the offices, both messhalls and the supply huts. If you find him in one of them, make up a good excuse as to how he got in too." Carter ducked out through the door, closely followed by Hogan.

Schultz immediately tried to stop Carter, protesting. "You cannot be out of the barracks, Carter! You must be inside until roll call!" Scultz was beginning to stomp his foot as he tugged at Carter's sleeve.

Hogan smoothly drew Schultz around to face him. "Oh Corporal Schultz? Can I ask you a hypothetical question?"

"It's Sergeant Schultz, you know this, Colonel Hogan. Why-why-why do you call me corporal?" Schultz leaned closer. "Have you heard something?"

"I heard the Kommandant gets really angry when his prisoners go missing because their barracks guard left his post. He also happens to frown upon guards that let the prisoners out 'just for a moment'." Hogan's arms crossed and he nodded to himself.

Schultz released Carter, his attention fully on Hogan. "But but but he would not know." He began to plead. "Colonel Hogan please, you would not tell him?"

Hogan mused it over. "Well, I could be persuaded to not mention it... if you let us look for Newkirk."

"Jawohl Colonel Hogan, but roll call will be soon." Schultz looked worried. "I must go and wake up the guards for the morning shift." He started across the compound. "I will tell them at formation that the Englander is sleepwalking somewhere and to help find him."

"Good idea." Hogan stood at the door for a few moments. The eastern sky had the barest hint of light beginning. Roll call was not far off. He shivered and wondered if this would be a morning of tragedy. The snow on the ground crunched where it had frozen. LeBeau's small form was in sight only briefly, caught by the edge of a searchlight as he darted towards the dog pen.

* * *

Inside the guard barracks it was even more silent until Sergeant Schultz walked in shouting. "Everybody up. Everyone for morning shift, formation is in fifteen minutes. Up up up! No complaining. Prisoner roll call is in thirty minutes!"

There were numerous complaints as the German guards roused themselves and began to dress. In the midst of the usual morning grousing there was one strange voice.

"Where the bloody 'ell am I?" asked Newkirk in confusion. His light colored nightshirt stood out starkly as he climbed out of an empty bunk. "Oh..." He gazed around at the surrounding guards in various stages of undress. "Oh bollocks!"

* * *

Hogan was just listening as Olson reported all of the barracks had been searched and Newkirk still hadn't been located. The loud shouts in German caught everyone's attention. Hogan peered at the building that was beginning to resemble a hornet nest. "What's going on in the guard barracks?"

LeBeau rushed up to watch. "Well, don't look at me, mon colonel, I wasn't checking the barracks."

Olson glared at him. "I wasn't checking _their_ barracks! Just our barracks! He can't possibly have snuck into there! Not asleep!"

Hogan sighed as two of the guards dragged one slight figure in a nightshirt out of the door to their barracks. "Evidently he can." He looked around at the two. "Well at least he was in a warm spot."

"Oui. But now its a bit hot." LeBeau practically pushed Hogan towards the commotion.

Trotting across the compound quickly, Hogan lightly smacked one guard's hands off Newkirk. "Hands off, Fritz! Let him go." He waved off the shouting. "Look, you guys can put Newkirk in the cooler and then you can all go explain how one prisoner in a nightshirt made it past all of your posted sentries and into your barracks without anyone stopping him. Or even seeing him." Hogan's gaze took in the suddenly apprehensive looks from the guards. "Well? Go on then. Go tell Klink you allow unescorted POWs to walk right into your barracks. I'm sure he'll understand."

"Nein..." said Schultz as he huffed his way up to the group. "Nein, just take him back to the barracks, please Colonel Hogan!" He turned on the guards, snapping irritably at them in German. "Get ready for formation! Dummkopfs! How do you let him get into the barracks!?"

Hogan took his man by one arm and hustled him across the compound, his eyes returning to the kommandantur watching for any signs of the kommandant. "Let's get you inside, change for roll call." Once they reached the barracks, Hogan sent out others to call the searchers back into the barracks. "Are you okay?"

Newkirk blinked at him. "Yessir." He was already changing as the others came back in and fussed at him. "Bugger off."

LeBeau crowded up next to him. "How did you get into the guards' barracks?"

"For the last bloody time, I don't know what I do when I'm ruddy sleepwalking! I'm asleep!" Newkirk was half exasperated and half scared now. He'd thought being shaken awake by Mueller was frightening but he'd never woken up in a barracks full of nothing but angry, scared German guards either.

Despite everything, roll call went just as it always did, with the prisoners harassing the guards and the guards threatening the prisoners and Klink demanding his reports. Eventually the prisoners settled down and Klink got his report. Then the kommandant stepped forward and there was a collective sigh of resignation when it was apparent that Klink was making a speech.

"Today, I need a volunteer work party to unload the supply trucks." Klink waited while the prisoners moaned and shouted about the likelihood of them volunteering. "I realize that you Allied soldiers have little desire to assist your captors, however superior we may have proven to be..." He paused again and Hogan noted a sly gleam in the German officer's eyes. Klink was definitely up to something. "But today, there will be a reward of sorts after the supply trucks are unloaded. The last truck holds your Red Cross packages."

The prisoners hoots and jeers immediately switched to cheering. Hogan snorted slightly to himself as he stepped forward and casually waved them quiet. "Thank you, Kommandant. I'm sure that I can find some volunteers to help with unloading the trucks, as long as our Red Cross packages are intact this time."

Klink's smug smile didn't waver at the Colonel's insinuation. "I can assure you that none of my guards would steal anything from your boxes."

Newkirk coughed softly. "And they're at the bottom of the stack so they can't get to the bloody things..."

The scattered laughter died out when Hogan held up a hand. "In that case, Kommandant, I will find a work crew." He waited until Klink dismissed them and then held up his hands to settle the excited queries and offers from dozens of POWs. "Okay okay... we'll make two work crews of ten people each. If there's more than twenty volunteers, draw straws to select the men." The Colonel left the details of that to Kinch who quickly gathered the dozens of volunteers to one side and made up straws, which no one would allow Newkirk to hold.

* * *

End Chapter

Now why wouldn't someone want Newkirk holding the straws? He's as honest as the day is long. Heh. *coughs uncomfortably* It seems my pants have spontaneously caught fire...


	13. Chapter 13

Bonus chapter! Because the last one was short, here's another short chapter! I count this as a bit of a bonus scene.

* * *

Chapter 13

Despite having no opportunity to cheat, the Brit ended up on one of the crews, although Carter and LeBeau both missed out. With Kinch in charge of one crew and Hogan overseeing the other, the German's supplies were quickly unloaded and stacked in the storage buildings in the camp. Then the precious Red Cross packages were distributed to each barracks, with Barracks 2 being last.

As soon as packages had been delivered, the trading began. Men paid off debts from gambling and bets and gave over items to pay back borrowed items, traded the things they didn't need or like for what they wanted. It seemed an impossibly complex system of debts as far as who owed who what, especially when debts were passed from one person to another as easily as cash in the rest of the world. LeBeau moved from one barracks to another, gathering up food stuffs owed to him and bargaining for what would sustain his planned cooking projects. Carter did his best to trade away his canned meats for additional candy.

Kinch made his way back to the barracks and had put away most of his own package, after making sure to put the packet of coffee into LeBeau's locker. Then he noticed Newkirk stretched out on his bunk, staring at a tattered paperback book. Anyone else would assume the Brit was reading but Kinch knew the man better.

Walking over, Kinch tilted his head to pretend to look at the cover of the book. "Good book?"

"Mmmph." grunted Newkirk without looking at him.

"Must be the best book ever written, if it's keeping you from collecting all the loot you're owed from poker games. You know you might not get paid off if you wait." Kinch watched the half shrug. "Okay, so what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Newkirk turned a few pages in the book, obviously forgetting how a person read a book. "I'm just... just reading."

"Liar." Kinch raised an eyebrow when Newkirk finally looked at him. "So are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"No." Newkirk got up and jumped to the floor. Picking up his Red Cross box, he slit it open and began setting out the usual milk, margarine, tinned vegetables and the dried eggs for LeBeau to add to their communal pantry. Picking up a tin, he snorted. "Carter will be 'appy, they sent me 'errings again."

Kinch gave a snort. "I prefer the tuna myself." Newkirk made a soft sound of agreement. "Ahhh, did you want a pack of cigarettes or the prunes?"

His interest wavered slightly. "Prunes? Not raisins?"

"Sorry, prunes this time." Kinch held up the container hopefully.

"No, cigarettes." Newkirk took the pile of his items to LeBeau's footlocker pantry and picked the lock easily to put the foodstuffs inside. He smiled to himself a little over the incongruity of a thief picking a lock to put more things into a footlocker rather than the opposite. Glancing at the package LeBeau had left on the table, he slipped it into the footlocker as well before closing it up.

Kinch watched him, handing over the pack of cigarettes when he came back to the table. "There was one Canadian Red Cross package, we gave that to LeBeau."

Newkirk stood for a few seconds before sighing and tossing the extra pack of cigarettes into LeBeau's bunk. "The blighter will be after me smokes then." When Kinch looked puzzled, Newkirk shrugged. "Canadian packages have more food but no smokes."

"Ahh, well, good thing everyone in camp seems to owe you cigarettes." Kinch grinned.

"Not everyone." Newkirk almost smiled and then looked at the false bunk. When he hesitated about it, Kinch cleared his throat. "What?"

"Sorry, Peter. The BBC reports won't be on until later tonight." Kinch watched the Brit's face show just a hint of frustration. "Are you worried about London? Your people are strong. Anything Germany knocks down, you'll rebuild."

"Yeah." Newkirk picked up his cards and looked at them absently. "I just..."

Kinch almost cursed when the door opened up and two prisoners piled in. They were from other barracks, coming to find Newkirk. Kinch saw his friend's expression turn to his normal amiable smirk instantly.

"Well, 'ere to pay up, are you?" Newkirk's hands tucked into his pockets. "If I don't disremember, you both owe me for last thursday's poker game."

The first shrugged and handed over a handful of cigarettes, which Newkirk counted before dropping into a small box he pulled from his bunk. The second set down a box. "Now I know I bet fourteen smokes, but..."

Newkirk tilted his head slightly, looking thoughtful. "But... you want to keep your ciggies and pay in kind?" He pretended to think about it and then gave a slight nod. "What's the offer?"

Brightening, they settled in to haggling and arguing. Kinch simply stood back and watched except for asking one pointed question about whether the American had gotten raisins. The light-hearted negotiations suddenly went serious as Newkirk decided to change the entire deal to include the dried fruit.

In the end, Newkirk gave up a few cigarettes in order to get the pack of cookies, one tin of margarine which went directly onto LeBeau's bunk and half of the pack of raisins. Then it became a discussion of how to fairly split the raisins.

Finally Kinch sighed and walked over. "Look guys, you want to make it fair, right?" Everyone agreed. "Then one of you split the raisins and the other one gets to pick which pile is his."

Newkirk looked at the other man and then shrugged. "Your choice, mate." Separating the raisins began immediately, with great detail to the condition of each dried fruit. LeBeau came in while Newkirk was standing by watching as the other made the two piles.

"Kinch..." said the Frenchman quietly. "What are they doing?"

"Splitting up the raisins evenly." Kinch explained. "Matthews is dividing them and Newkirk gets to pick which half he gets."

"How is that going to work? What if Matthews makes one pile bigger?" asked LeBeau.

Kinch smiled. "If Matthews makes the piles uneven, then Newkirk will just pick the bigger pile."

"But... ooooh..." LeBeau beamed. "Smart." He unlocked his pantry and began loading in items from his arms. "Mon ami..." Looking up at Newkirk, he tossed a small bag at him. "Sugar cubes."

"Thankee, Louis." Newkirk tucked them into one of his deep coat pockets. He kept a close eye on the splitting process. "Smokes on your bunk."

LeBeau picked up the pack of cigarettes and then flopped onto his bed, letting out a yelp of pain. Sitting up, he fished the tin of margarine out of the blankets and glared at the Brit.

Without even looking away from the raisin drama, Newkirk waved one hand slightly. "And a can of Oleo."

"Merci. Maybe next time you can warn me before I break my back on it." LeBeau tossed the can down to the foot of his bunk. "Where did the extras come from in the pantry?"

When Newkirk merely grunted, Kinch pointed at him. "That's out of his package. I put the coffee into your locker."

"Merci, Kinch. Make sure that Carter remembers not to trade away his coffee, yes?" LeBeau stretched and laid down where he could watch the raisin counting himself. It wasn't exactly an exciting thing, but there were not many exciting things to watch in camp.

Finally Matthews finished and bent to look carefully at the two piles. "Okay..." he finally stepped back. "There. That's half."

Newkirk bent to peer just as carefully at the two piles, humming softly to himself. "I want that pile." He pointed at the pile on the left.

"Damn... okay." Matthews scooped his half back into his container while Newkirk gathered his half up. "Good doing business with you, poker this friday?"

"No, guards get paid this friday. Check Barracks 10 to see when they're holding a game." said Newkirk absently. The two other POWs took the not-so-subtle hint and left.

Newkirk stood staring at nothing for a few minutes before abruptly grabbing up his coat. He was out the door before Kinch could say anything, and the radioman sighed heavily. "I wish he'd just tell us what's eating him."

"He's worried." LeBeau sat up on his bunk, picking up the can of margarine to turn over in his hands. "I think he's worried about all the bombing in London. Before the war, he had never even been out of the city except with the circus, did you know?" LeBeau lifted one shoulder up in a shrug. "I worry about Paris too, but me, I have been many places and Paris will always be there. The Germans are not dropping bombs on my city every night."

Kinch nodded at him. "Yeah, and since France surrendered..." He held up his hands to pacify the suddenly bristling Frenchman. "...temporarily capitulated... let's say..." He got glared at anyway. "Anyway, the Germans don't have much reason to destroy the city now. But London is catching Hell now. It's the symbol for the British and one of the only big symbolic targets they can hit easily. They're going to level the whole place if they aren't stopped."

"Well, that's why we're around, to make sure they're stopped before that happens." LeBeau lay back on his bunk. "Do you think that Newkirk is trying to go back to London in his sleep? It would make sense."

"I don't know." Kinch shook his head. "I'm sure Newkirk will tell us sooner or later." He smiled wryly. "If he figures it out himself."

* * *

end chapter

I based Newkirk's desire for raisins on the character seeming to have small bits of something that he was eating in a few episodes and on the fact that both raisins and prunes were found in Red Cross packages. In fact, all the little details about the contents of red Cross packages are true. I had a lot of fun researching it.

Thank you all for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

It's been a busy week, but here's a new chapter! Thank you to all you reviewers, you're grand!

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Chapter 14

This night it was Kinch waiting until the rest of the barracks went to sleep. He'd left most of his regular clothes on, in case he needed to retrieve Newkirk from outside. Sitting up in his bunk, he let himself relax but stayed awake enough to listen. Soon enough, he heard the slight noise of Newkirk climbing out of his upper bunk.

Kinch stood up and watched Newkirk wander aimlessly around the barracks. If he waited long enough, maybe he would discover how the Brit was escaping the building.

Newkirk paused by the door briefly, his hand gently touching the chair wedged into place before he roamed on, softly padding about while Kinch stayed out of his way. The man stopped at Colonel Hogan's door but then moved on, shuffling around the table twice more before approaching a bunk set in the far end of the barracks. Kinch shook his head as he watched Newkirk crawl under the bunk without rousing the occupant. It seemed they wouldn't discover Newkirk's exit tonight.

As Kinch got on his hands and knees to retrieve Newkirk from under the bunk, he whispered softly so as to not startle him too badly. "Hey Peter... come on, let's get you back to bed. Newkirk?" His eyes widened as he looked at the empty space. "What the?" He just barely caught a glimmer of light through a crack in the barracks wall before it disappeared. There was some sort of small door or loose board in the little space and Newkirk was now outside. Kinch jerked himself up and rushed to move the pans off the chair. As soon as he stepped outside, Schultz jumped up from the bench.

"Halt!" said Schultz loudly. He immediately relaxed when he recognized the prisoner. "Sergeant Kinchloe! What are you doing?"

"Newkirk just got out." Kinch motioned for Schultz to follow and walked quickly around to the far end of the barracks where Newkirk had to have exited. "There." Sure enough, Kinch found the Englishman wandering off.

Schultz started forward. "Newkirk! Wake up!" He stopped when Kinch put one hand on his chest.

"Easy Schultz. Why don't we let him go?" Kinch shook his head when the guard began to protest. "Not let him escape, just let him work out whatever he's dreaming that he's doing."

"Nein. It is too cold. He will freeze to death out here." Schultz headed for Newkirk again.

"Just a few minutes Schultz. If we don't figure out a way to stop him, he will get out and freeze one night." Kinchloe was walking alongside the guard as they slowly followed Newkirk. Kinch watched the wanderer pause and then change direction. "Look, he's going somewhere. We'll just find out what he thinks he's doing. Maybe then he'll stop sleepwalking."

Schultz thought it over for a moment. Sergeant Kinchloe rarely ever seemed to participate in the monkey business around camp. Schultz gave in. "Okay... but only a few minutes." They followed along as Newkirk wandered, stopping occasionally to mumble to himself. Finally he went to the pile of split firewood.

"What is he doing?" Schultz watched as the Brit grew agitated, pacing back and forth around the pile. "I cannot allow him to take the firewood."

Kinchs hushed him, pointing. "He isn't taking any, Schultz." Newkirk suddenly let out a soft cry of dismay and bent to begin moving chunks of wood aside. Kinch moved closer and had to dodge thrown firewood. "See? He's looking for something. I'll bet anything that's it. He's lost something and can't find it."

"And he is walking around in his sleep looking for it?" Schultz spread his hands. "Why does he not search for it during the day then, Kinchloe?"

"Please!" pleaded Newkirk clearly. "Someone 'elp me!" His efforts became more frantic.

Kinch put a hand up to block a chunk of wood as it came flying near him. "Newkirk, I'll help you look. Just tell me... what are we looking for?" When Newkirk didn't answer, Kinch repeated the question louder. "Peter, what are you looking for?" Newkirk suddenly stumbled in the pile of firewood and Kinch reached to catch him. "Peter! What did you lose?"

"MAVIS!" Newkirk's eyes flew open and he gasped. "Me sister is gone!" He blinked suddenly, looking confused. "Wh-where am I?"

"You're outside, it's okay, we'll take you back to the barracks." Kinch lifted him to his feet while Schultz tugged his arm to help him out of the pile of scattered wood.

"Schultz? Kinch? Wot 'appened?" Newkirk began to shiver. "Was I... 'ow'd I get out 'ere?"

Kinch urged him to walk. "Why do you think Mavis is missing?"

Nwkirk stopped in his tracks. "I 'aven't 'eard from Mavis in two months. But 'ow did you know?" His face crumpled and his hands reached to cover the stricken expression. "Kinch! She could be dead! The bloody Krauts keep bombing London and they been 'itting Stepney really 'ard!"

Kinch urged him towards the barracks again. "Let's get inside, we'll figure something out. I'm sure Mavis is okay." He kept a firm grip on Newkirk's elbow.

Schultz followed, trying to help. "I am sure your schwester is not dead!"

Newkirk whirled on the guard. "It's you lot what are dropping the bombs on Stepney! Don't you talk to me! I should beat you bloody, you great fat sod!"

Recoiling from the uncharacteristic vicious attack from the Englishman, Schultz apologized softly. "I am sorry, I did not mean to upset you."

Kinch pushed Newkirk to the barracks door. "Schultz isn't the one to be angry at." He stepped between the two, giving Schultz an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Schultz, he's just worried. We don't blame you for everything the Nazis are doing."

"Ja." Suddenly looking every one of his many years, Schultz nodded a little but his face still showed the hurt. "Try to make certain that he stays inside the barracks, bitte, Sergeant Kinchloe?"

"I will Schultz, danke." Kinch got the angry Brit inside before he could snap at the guard more. "Newkirk, calm down." Kinch's grip on his elbow guided him to the false bunk. LeBeau was unceremoniously poked awake.

The Frenchman sleepily followed them down into the tunnels. "What is going on? Did he get out again?" LeBeau wiped his face, trying to wake up.

"Yeah and not only did I find out _how_ he's getting out... I found out why!" Kinch spared a glance for Newkirk as the Brit slumped onto one of the benches in the tunnel. "Why didn't you tell us about Mavis?"

Newkirk inhaled sharply. "I didn't want to make it real. I kept thinking that next mail call, there'd be a letter. There's nothing that any of you can do to 'elp anyway." He leaned his elbows onto his knees and rubbed both hands over his head. "She's never not written me and the damned Krauts hit Stepney. They keep bloody well bombing Stepney!"

"Why would they target Stepney?" Kinch tried to put a hand onto Newkirk's shoulder but he suddenly stood and paced away. "I know they're hitting London but..."

"Stepney 'as factories. That's why only poor folks live there. Why we live there." Newkirk stopped pacing and looked up at the ceiling with haunted eyes. "Why Mavis lives there."

LeBeau spoke hesitantly. "We can call London... ask them to look for her for you."

"Don't you think I've bloody tried?! I called them... begged them. They said they wouldn't be able to find one unimportant civilian what with all the mess of the Blitz. There's too many buildings that came down... too many people displaced..." his voice cracked. "Too many casualties..." He slumped back onto the bench. "She's all the family I've got left. It isn't bloody fair. She's supposed to be safe..."

His two friends hovered close, trying to give what comfort that they could. It was hours until they returned to the barracks to sleep.

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End Chapter

Kinch fans should be happy. Update soon.


	15. Chapter 15

Time for a new chapter! Thank you all for the reviews. I hope you continue to enjoy. Don't forget to vote in the Papa Bear Awards!

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Chapter 15

By midday the next day, the core crew all knew what Kinch and LeBeau had discovered. Newkirk had immediately become defensive and snappish in response to the unwanted sympathy. He'd gone out to pace around the fenceline instead of facing his friends. His harassing of the tower guards had more of a vindictive flavor to it. Kinch had needed to go distract him to stop his pacing back and forth in front of one tower.

The second time Kinch had been alerted to Newkirk causing some of the gate guards to have hysterics over his pointed studying of the gate construction, he'd sighed heavily. "At least I have something to tell him." He waved Olson off when the other American offered to go corral the irritable Brit. "No, I'll get him."

Newkirk was indeed standing and staring balefully at the gate guards. They were trying to order him away and he was moving back one inch at a time. Kinch noticed how tightly they were gripping the heavy rifles and immediately went up to put an arm in front of Newkirk. "Hey, you want to come away from the gates?" Kinch tried nodding encouragingly.

"Not really." Newkirk didn't budge and the guards looked at each other and shifted closer. "Come on, you buggering Krauts..." he spoke under his breath.

"Newkirk..." Kinch moved between the gate and Newkirk carefully. "Come on, walk with me. I have something to tell you." He bent slightly, knowing he loomed over the smaller man. "Come on, Peter. Let's walk." He put a hand out, stopping just shy of touching the other man. "Let's go." His tone was firmer than he normally used. Kinch rarely would even attempt to issue an order, rank notwithstanding. A Negro didn't order a white man around, even in the military, even in a POW camp and even when that man was his friend. Kinch however, would on a very rare occasion manage to say something in such a way that made it clear it was an order. Considering the amount of respect he had in the camp, those rare occasions were always noted and he was obeyed.

Newkirk was someone who relished every opportunity to flaunt authority. But his eyes flickered up to Kinch's face and the Cockney was the one to lower his gaze. Kinch had his respect without the military rank entering into it. He did send one last glare to the guards before he turned to walk away. The guards exchanged relieved looks and sighed heavily. They _liked_ their tame prisoners who never threatened violence and seemed mostly content to live within the fences under Colonel Hogan's relaxed command. Strange events aside, the posting here was not unpleasant, especially considering the alternatives.

Kinch nudged Newkirk slightly as they headed for the barracks. "Contact from London, they're talking to the Colonel now. Maybe we'll finally get a mission." Kinch was hoping so. If they kept the Brit busy maybe he wouldn't have as much time to brood.

"Good. Maybe they'll explain why they've kept us sitting on our bloody 'ands all this time." Newkirk stepped into the main barracks and all but tripped over Carter. "You ruddy git! Carter! You nearly made me bust me bloody 'ead open."

Carter untangled himself from Newkirk. "Sorry but I was just coming to find you two. The Colonel wants everyone in his office." He stumbled over one of the benches attempting to get up.

Newkirk grabbed him by the back of his flight jacket and stood him up. "You really are the living end! Come on." The two of them entered Hogan's office just behind Kinch. "What's London got for us, guv'ner?" Newkirk elbowed LeBeau over on Hogan's lower bunk to sit. "Maybe a nice bridge for me mate Carter to blow up?"

Hogan tapped a pencil on his desk a few seconds before turning to them. "Sorry. London's orders are for us to sit tight and don't do anything to draw any attention. So no escapes, no town visits, no 'monkey business'." Hogan let them moan about that for a moment before holding up a hand for quiet. "They're dropping new codebooks just two miles from camp tonight."

Newkirk's voice rose above the others. "I volunteer to go out and retrieve it, sir!" There was a slight hubbub as the others vied to be the one chosen as well.

Hogan raised his voice. "Hold it! No one is going out. The Underground is sending their own man. We are sitting in camp like good little POWs." He listened to them grumble. "But..." Hogan smiled as all the attention focused on him. "After tonight, then it's back to business as usual."

Carter beamed happily. "What do you think will be the first target? Boy, I've got some really nice TNT made up and when it goes off..." He used his hands to mime explosions. "Pow! Boom!"

LeBeau smiled at him. "You're so disturbing, Carter."

"I think you mean, 'e is disturbed." said Newkirk. Carter gave him a shove, still grinning. "Leave off, you pyromaniac."

"If you keep calling me names, I might set your bunk on fire." said Carter.

"It's your bunk too, you know." pointed out Newkirk.

"Oh." Carter looked fairly crestfallen over that. "Well I wouldn't actually set you on fire anyway." His attention went back to Hogan. "Colonel, what about downed fliers? What if some of the planes get shot down?"

"We'll deal with that when it happens. London's orders are clear. We lay low and let the Germans take their patrols and troops elsewhere until after the agents get those codebooks." Hogan sat up straighter. "But then we'll get new orders. So enjoy the last day off." The obvious dismissal sent all of his men headed out of his office. "Newkirk, I'd like to talk to you a minute."

Newkirk cast a guilty look at Kinch as his friend left. He suspected that Hogan was ready to give him a pretty serious reprimand for harassing the guards. He stiffened up. He hadn't done anything wrong. They weren't supposed to be coddling the Germans anyway.

Hogan waited until the door was closed behind the others before he gestured towards the lower bunk. "Do you want to sit down?"

"No. If it's all the same to you, I'll stand." said Newkirk.

Hogan tried not to be amused at the hints of sullenness in the Brit's tone. "I'm not going to yell at you, Newkirk." He waited for the expression of surprise to appear and immediately be suppressed. "I wish I had better news, but when I was on with London, I asked them to check on your family. In fact, I leaned on them pretty heavily, after all, I can't have my finest thief distracted, right?" His tone made it clear that the excuse was only to London and not from Hogan personally.

"But London told me that they couldn't find one displaced civilian." said Newkirk quietly.

"Unfortunately, that's the answer I got too. Well, they said they'd try to look into it but not to expect any real results." Hogan watched Newkirk's face fall a bit before he covered and put on his usual careless expression. "I'm sorry I don't have better news."

"No, Colonel, it's okay. Thankee for trying." Newkirk finally met his eyes. "I mean that. I appreciate you trying. It's just..." He inhaled deeply, struggling for control. "It's killing me... not knowing." He forced himself to relax, looking away. "Well, there's nothing for it then."

"No, not right now. But we'll find something out... somehow. Don't lose hope." Hogan wanted to reach out, to do something to take away that hopeless gaze, to help. Right now, all they could do was wait.

"Yes'sir." Newkirk turned to leave and then paused. "Is that all, sir?"

"Yes. You can go." Hogan let him get the door open before he added. "Just don't antagonize the guards more than you absolutely have to."

That got a ghost of a smile. "Yes'sir. Not more than I 'ave to."

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End Chapter

Thank you for reading. And yes, I like Kinch!


	16. Chapter 16

Greetings again. Another chapter... getting close to the end. Enjoy. Thank you to those who reviewed.

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Chapter 16

It was in the wee hours of the morning when Kinch woke to sleepy complaints in French. He rolled over and out of the bunk to stagger over to LeBeau. "Wake up, you're dreaming." His eyes slid shut even as he leaned on the bed post. LeBeau mumbled loudly again as he scrunched up under the blankets. Kinch reached to shake him awake before his noise woke the whole barracks. "LeBeau, hush, you're just dreaming..." Kinch's eyes flew open as the bunk shuddered under his shoulder. He put a hand to the bunk's corner post and felt the vibrations as someone banged on it again. "Louis, get up!" Kinch dragged the half-asleep Frenchman out of the bunk and shoved him towards Hogan's office. "Wake the Colonel, someone is in the tunnel!"

LeBeau rushed to fetch the officer while Kinch shook Newkirk awake. "Someone's in the tunnel, come on." Kinch opened up the concealed entrance and stood slightly aside ready to grab whoever emerged.

"It is me, Erich!" The member of the Underground was known by sight to Hogan's men and they relaxed as he climbed up into the barracks. "There's a problem! I'm sorry to have to use your emergency tunnel!"

Hogan emerged from his office, looking alarmed when he recognized Erich. "What's happened?"

"The drop went poorly, Colonel Hogan! The plane dropped the packages late and the wind caught one of them. It blew it miles off course and I've been racing through the woods trying to catch up to it..." Erich was panting and LeBeau pulled one of the benches out for him to sit.

"Okay, so the package had to land somewhere... what can we do to help you locate it?" Hogan was already checking the time. They had four hours until roll call and he was calculating how much ground his entire team could cover if they all went out and split up.

"I know WHERE it is!" Erich gulped down water from a cup LeBeau handed him. "It's in the compound!"

"What?!" exploded Hogan. "In our compound?" He paced away and back quickly. "The guards will find it."

"That's why I used your emergency tunnel. I had to alert you. We have to retrieve that package, it has the new codebooks and if the Germans get their hands on one, it will be a disaster." Erich looked to the Colonel. "Can't you send one of your men out to get it?"

"POWs are confined to barracks at night, one prisoner walks out there and he could be shot. At the very least, it will attract every guard in the compound and then they'll be sure to find the package." Hogan moved to the door and cracked it open slightly. "Where did it land?"

Erich pointed to the center of the compound. "There... the searchlights pass right beside it."

After a few seconds, Hogan could just barely see a small indistinct lump in the dirt and snow. "Great... that's just great."

Newkirk ducked underneath one of Hogan's arms to peek out of the crack himself. Backing up again, he tilted his head. "I can go out. The guards won't shoot me, guv'ner."

Erich gave him a suspicious look. "Why would the guards hesitate to shoot you?"

"I've been sleepwalking, it's a long story." Newkirk turned back to Hogan. "They'd let me walk out without too much fuss, right?"

Hogan took a breath and thought. "They won't shoot you, but they'd immediately come over to intercept you. Just because you won't be shot doesn't mean they let you roam around on your own." He paced away and back twice. "Okay, Newkirk is going out. But don't go for the package. Instead, I want you to circle to the side, try to attract all the guards that you can. Once all the attention is on you, LeBeau can go grab the package." He nodded at LeBeau. "You're fast and you're the hardest to see out there and if someone does spot you, you were just looking for your poor sleepwalking pal, Newkirk."

Newkirk grinned slightly and reached up to muss his own hair up. Stepping to the door, he suddenly paused and looked back at them. "Wait... what do I look like when I sleepwalk now?"

"Shuffle... just look asleep. You can mumble a lot too." Kinch mimed the slack face. "You were wandering in circles sometimes too."

"Oh that's just grand..." Shaking his head, Newkirk checked through the cracked door. "Well, I'm off to be a bloody target, wish me well!" He slipped out through the door without waiting for any answers.

* * *

Newkirk slipped out and waited for the searchlights to pass before he moved. Making his way down the barracks, he easily avoided a passing guard and continued until he reached the next barracks. Then he took a deep breath and let his eyes almost close. He had to force his body to stay relaxed as he broke every rule of sneaking about the compound at night. He shuffled slowly into the open. All of his instincts said 'hide' but he wandered into the open area into full sight of two sets of guards. As expected, they shouted and the searchlights flooded him with bright light. It took all of his concentration to remain slack as he moved slowly away from Barracks 2. His arms twitched with a burning need to raise up in response to being 'found' by the guards.

His breathing seemed to quicken as his mouth went dry and he only began to relax when it was evident that the guards were merely following him. He'd been unaware of how the guards behaved when they'd found him the previous nights. Even being told by Colonel Hogan that he would be safe from the guards didn't alleviate all of the anxiety over the danger. Now, walking openly about the compound at night seemed terrifying. He reminded himself it wasn't the first time he'd pulled this exact stunt. This time the kindly Schultz was no where in sight however. If Guard Mueller found him, the gig was up immediately.

Newkirk began to lead the nearby guards away slowly. Heading out across the compound, he suddenly remembered Kinch's instructions and veered to one side. He made a slow curve, bringing his path back to the right direction. There were two sets of guards following his progress at a distance now.

"Nein... nein... come Englander." Langenscheidt's voice was a relief behind him. "Back to your barracks... come now..."

Ignoring the guard, Newkirk continued on his slow way. His neck hairs prickled as he heard the crunching footsteps of more than one German behind him. Without opening his eyes more than a mere crack, he tried to assess where he was. Whoever had joined Langenscheidt was now muttering to the guard as they tried to decide how to deal with the sleeping prisoner.

"You go around and block his path." Langenscheidt appeared in Newkirk's peripheral vision. "Come Corporal Newkirk, back to your bunk, bitte. It is cold out, ja?"

Suddenly Newkirk _was_ cold. Somehow he'd been overlooking the fact that he was wandering about in nothing but his nightshirt and now-wet socks. Langenscheidt's coaxing distracted Newkirk so that he almost walked into the second guard.

Newkirk gave out a soft gasp and covered by mumbling softly to himself. He paused, blocked by the guard's rifle held out as a barrier. Shifting to edge around, he chose to head towards the fence. Avoiding both guards through aimless wandering was harder than he would have thought. Eventually he simply closed his eyes and shuffled along blindly, trusting the Germans to move aside.

He was beginning to shiver uncontrollably now and the fake shuffling became quite real as he stumbled a few times. Suddenly his arm was grabbed and he couldn't help leaping wildly to the side. Mueller's voice ordered him to halt, even as Langenscheidt tried to protest. Newkirk wrenched his arm out of the surly guard's hand, almost immediately tripped over the low warning wire next to the outer fence, realized on his way to the ground that the barbed wire fence was right there and then promptly landed face-first into the barbed wire itself. Evidently, he'd discovered one of the few weak points in the fence, as the wire came loose to collapse on him.

Two seconds later, he screamed. Five seconds after that, he realized his thrashing was not only not helping his situation, but had rather hopelessly tangled his limbs into the fence. At the ten second mark, he remembered exactly how sharp all those barbs were as about one hundred of them stuck him at once.

"Oowwww!" Newkirk jerked his entire body and actually saw a piece of the wire pop loose, turn into a neat loop and land over his head. At that point he stopped fighting and started howling in pain. It didn't particularly help his situation to scream but at the moment, it was the only thing he could do. "Get me out of here!"

Mueller looked disgusted. "Donnerwetter! Be still, Englander!" He began trying to untangle the wire.

Langenscheidt was trying to lift the worst of the fence off of Newkirk. "Corporal Newkirk! You pulled half of the fence down!" The alarms were blaring loudly and Langenscheidt waved frantically at the tower guards. "Nein! Do not let the dogs out! This is all your fault, Corporal Mueller! You shouldn't have woken him!" Loud barking sounded from another part of the compound as the routine reaction to the alarms and shouts began to unfold. A dozen big German shepherds came racing around the buildings and spotted the guards and Newkirk and bounded towards them at full bay. "Donnerwetter! Nein! Halt! Heel!" Poor Langenscheidt was visibly torn between trying to free Newkirk from the wire and running for safety himself.

Mueller and the other guard had none of Langenscheidt's indecision and raced away. Another dozen guards from the guard barracks came swarming out to head for the melee at the downed fence wire only to be broken up by half the dogs who turned on them.

Despite the tight wire binding him and his own pain from a thousand little cuts and Langenscheidt stepping on his leg trying to climb the fence to get away from Heidi, one of the more vigorously barking dogs... Newkirk began to laugh. He hoped that Hogan and the Underground appreciated that when you asked Newkirk to provide a distraction, you could count on it being a good one!

* * *

End chapter

I got nothing.


	17. Chapter 17

And all things must come to an end... the last chapter(hey, at least it's a little extra long!).

* * *

Chapter 17

"Ow."

"Hold still."

"Ow."

"I said... hold still. What were you thinking, running into the barbed wire that way?" Medic Wilson was not amused. His lack of amusement didn't mean that he wasn't being very careful to find and clean every one of the little cuts on Newkirk.

"I wasn't thinking... I was sleepwalking again." Newkirk winced away from the latest dab from the medic. "Ow!"

"For the last time! Hold! Still!" Wilson glared at him. "Do you want to have these get infected? It would serve you right. Let them get infected and then I'll have to scrub all of that nastiness out and then you'll be saying more than just 'ow', believe me!" He dabbed the cloth wet with iodine onto another little inch-long slash. "You look like someone went at you with a miniature switchblade."

A laugh bubbled up from inside Newkirk. "It was the wee folk. They attacked me!"

"Not funny." Wilson held out for a moment but then laughed softly. "Okay, that's a little funny."

"It's bloody 'ysterical." said Newkirk. He twisted to look as someone entered, his hand grabbing for his pullover automatically. When he noticed it was Hogan, he relaxed again. "Colonel Hogan, sir... ow! Would you leave off, Wilson!"

Hogan shook his head, frowning as he took in the sight. "Wilson is doing his job." He nodded as the medic thanked him with a smug tone. "Will he be all right?"

"He's never going to be alright. Newkirk is damaged in the head somewhere." Wilson checked over Newkirk's torso one more time, pushing one leg aside to look at his thigh briefly. "But these cuts from the fence won't be what takes him down. Not unless he gets tetanus." Wilson smiled with a suddenly absent expression. "You know, that would be lovely."

Newkirk looked annoyed as he began getting dressed. "Wot? Me getting tetanus?"

Wilson turned the smile on him. "Yes. You... with lockjaw. For once I could treat you and not have to listen to all the complaining." He gathered up his supplies and left while Newkirk was still grumbling.

Hogan was chuckling as the Englishman finished dressing. The man was splotched all over with the orangish stains of iodine, each one framing a small cut from the barbed wire fence. He hid his concern over the ribby state of his Corporal. Carter and Newkirk both had a tendency towards thinness and Hogan made himself a mental note to get more in the way of extra rations soon. "Well, I didn't quite expect so much theater when I asked for a distraction, but it worked nicely." His voice was low as he spoke.

They exited the infirmary and headed across the compound towards the barracks. By the time the dogs had been corralled, the errant prisoner disentangled from the fallen wire of the fence, the fencing repaired and everything set back to order, it had been time for roll call. Newkirk had been hustled to the infirmary without having a chance to talk to anyone. As soon as roll call was finished, Klink had given a long winded speech about how humane he was allowing medical treatment of prisoners and not harming even the most stupid of prisoners who ran into fences in their sleep. Now the compound was busy with POWs going to the messhall to eat and returning to the barracks from breakfast, such as it was.

Newkirk looked towards the messhall with some longing but Hogan nudged him towards the barracks instead. "LeBeau has oatmeal for us this morning."

"Oh marvelous." Newkirk tried to put a note of displeasure into that but he was hungry and still cold and a warm dish for breakfast sounded like the heights of luxury. "Did my running into the fence 'elp the cause enough?"

"Oh yes... LeBeau had the codebook safely inside the barracks about two minutes after you left. We _were_ sort of wondering what was taking so long out here." Hogan smiled pleasantly as he needled the corporal. "I didn't expect the full scale riot scene though."

"Neither did I!" Newkirk grimaced at him. "As long as the package is in the right 'ands, it doesn't matter." He sighed. "If I 'ave to be a bother, at least I was useful too."

"You're never a bother, Newkirk." Hogan put a hand onto his back as they entered the barracks. "Well, that's a lie... you're often a bother, but not because of the sleepwalking. You couldn't help that."

"Ow." Newkirk winced and pulled away from the hand on his back. "That's bloody nice, sir. I go out into mortal danger to 'elp the Allied cause, in me sock feet in the snow and you make fun." His mock outrage and hurt made Hogan smile although he was trying to put on an expression of sympathy. "Throwing meself into the vicious guards..."

"It was Langenscheidt... he's hardly vicious." interjected Carter from the table.

Newkirk continued, ignoring the commentary. "... into the dark and cold of the enemy territory..."

LeBeau waved a spoon vaguely at him. "I don't think you can call the camp 'enemy territory' considering that Colonel Hogan runs this place..."

Frowning at LeBeau's contribution, Newkirk loftily ignored that as well. "AND... forthrightly did me duty, distracting all the guards and sacrificing meself in a most unselfish and heroic manner." He mock-glared around daring anyone else to speak up.

Kinch accepted his little plate of oatmeal from LeBeau and raised an eyebrow at Newkirk. "Langenscheidt told me that you screamed like a girl and ran face-first into the fence."

Sighing and giving up, Newkirk motioned at the stove. "Can a bloke at least get a bowl of porridge for all the effort he put out?"

There were chuckles from all around. Hogan wrapped his arms around his middle as he watched his crew settling to eat. "Oh give him an extra scoop, LeBeau." He waited until Newkirk brightened and sat up happily. "Maybe that will keep the whining to a minimum for a while."

"Oh that's just bloody marvelous of you, sir." Despite his protests, Newkirk still looked pleased with himself and his friends made a fuss over both his actions and his many cuts.

Hogan was handed a bowl of oatmeal and settled at the table himself. The chatter ranged from teasing at the Englishman to speculation on the first missions they would be assigned. Even as his eyes assessed his men, he could see the hints of stress and unease on Newkirk's face, hidden behind the careless expression and weariness. When Hogan talked to London later in the day, he resolved to ask again about Newkirk's sister. The strain of worry would continue to affect him until he knew, one way or the other.

* * *

It was late afternoon before Newkirk saw Schultz. The English POW was sitting at the community table in the barracks trying to pretend to be distracted by Carter's attempts to play gin and LeBeau's banter over whatever atrocity he had in the cooking pot. As much as Newkirk appreciated the care, his mates' efforts weren't helping much. The late night hours and drama from his incident meant they should all have been catching naps. But when Newkirk couldn't lie still without his thoughts going to London, LeBeau and Carter chose to keep him company.

Now he was holding a hand of mismatched cards, trying to pretend he was playing. Any other time, he would have been amused at Carter's attempts to lose deliberately.

"Oh oops!" Carter dropped a card to the floor on purpose and bent to pick it up. As he did, his hand of cards turned towards Newkirk for several seconds. Carter took his time getting back upright and then glanced to see if his friend had taken advantage of his 'mistake'.

Newkirk met his eyes squarely. "I'm okay, Carter. Really."

"Oh I know!" Carter looked away guiltily. "I just... well you know. I'm clumsy and just, you know, dropped it." He began meticulously arranging his cards.

"Thanks Carter." Newkirk sighed lightly. "I just wish London would send me word that she's gone. Not knowing and waiting..." He inhaled and then swallowed hard. "Anyway. There's that. Nothing for it, right?"

LeBeau spoke up quietly from the stove. "Non. Do not give up hope. Maybe she is just busy."

Snorting, Newkirk avoided LeBeau's gaze."Too busy to write her brother?" He folded and then re-spread the cards in his hand. "Not bloody likely."

"It does not have to be likely in order to be possible." LeBeau stirred his pot and sniffed it a little. "I wish we had chives. Parsnips are so bland."

"Next trip into the officer's mess, I'll look for chives, mate." Newkirk waited while LeBeau brightened and thanked him. "What are chives, anyway?"

"You are such a barbarian." Before LeBeau could elaborate on the insult, the barracks' door opened to let Schultz in. "Hello Schultzie."

Schultz smiled widely. "Guten tag, LeBeau." He trundled his way over to Newkirk's side of the table. "Newkirk... I brought you something. Do you want to guess what it is that I brought for you?"

Sighing, Newkirk resigned himself to days of everyone trying to cheer him up. He did feel a bit guilty over how he'd snapped at Schultz though. So he bit back the annoyed comment and instead looked up at the chubby guard. "I really 'ave no idea, Schultzie. Is it a platoon of Sherman tanks manned by armed American cowboys?"

Carter perked up. "Is it bigger than a breadbox?"

"Nein." Schultz continued to smile like the world's largest cherub. "Would you like to guess again?" He even chuckled to himself.

Newkirk had been trying to play along but the laughter was just too much for his frayed nerves. "I don't know and I'm not much in the mood for games." He glanced up at Schultz and softened his tone. "Sorry Schultz."

"Maybe this will make you be in a better mood." Schultz pulled a battered wad of envelopes from inside his coat and set them in front of the Englishman. "I called to all of the stalags that are nearby and I asked them if they had your mail by accident. And finally Stalag 5 said that they did have it. Someone made a mistake and they have been sending all of your mail to the wrong camp. So I went there and picked it up for you." He beamed happily.

Newkirk sat staring at the bundle looking stunned. "My... my... my wot?"

LeBeau lunged to pull the string off the pile and spread out at least a dozen envelopes. "Your mail! Look... look Pierre!" He held up an envelope and snatched more from the bundle. "Look! From your sister! From Mavis! See?"

For just a moment, Newkirk's eyes fluttered but he inhaled deeply and managed to push the darkness back and focus. His hand shook but he picked through the letters gingerly until he found the most recent letter. "Mavis is alive." He jumped up suddenly and wrapped both arms as far around Schultz's bulk as possible and then kissed him soundly on the cheek. "Thank you Schultz! Whatever you want! It's yours, anything!" He turned loose but put his hands on either side of the guard's face. "Thankee much, Feldwebel Schultz."

Smiling, Schultz stepped back. "You are welcome. And all I want is for you to not walk in your sleep any more. Too many strange things happen when you sleepwalk." Schultz's gaze went around to the POWs and for that fleeting moment, everyone could see that Schultz did indeed 'know something'. But then the look disappeared and the old jovial guard assumed his normal mien. "But of course, a bar of your English chocolate would also be nice."

"It's yours, Schultz. Two bars. Promise." assured Newkirk.

"Gut. "Schultz turned to leave. "Also..." He looked back at them. "Do not mention this to the kommandant, ja? I did not have a pass to go on a personal errand and I had to pay Stalag 5's sergeant of the guard two packs of cigarettes to keep him from reporting me."

Newkirk reached up into his bunk and pulled out two packs of cigarettes. "Oi... 'ere. I can replace your smokes at least. And mum's the word, right mates?" he looked to the others.

On cue, they all smiled at the guard and answered in chorus. "We know nothing... nothing!"

"Jolly jokers." mumbled Schultz amiably, leaving before the prisoners decided to do anything they shouldn't... or kiss him again.

As the door closed behind the guard, Carter beamed at Newkirk. "Well? Aren't you going to read them?"

Newkirk went through the pile, carefully arranging them in order. Then he picked up the oldest one and looked at the envelope carefully. "Yeah. I am."

By evening, everyone knew of Newkirk's good news. Hogan came to admire the stash. Newkirk had beamed down from his bunk at his commanding officer. He had been rereading the letters from Mavis for the fifth time.

Hogan walked away, pausing to fill a mug of what passed for coffee. He glanced back at the happy Englishman relating something from a letter to Carter. Kinch was leaning against a bunk and smirked at Hogan. "I don't think Newkirk has stopped grinning for the last four hours."

"Let him smile." Hogan sipped the hot brown water and grimaced at it. "It's been long enough since he had anything to smile over. And..." He lowered his voice a bit. "...we need him to cheer the camp up. Wasn't the same around here."

"You got that right, sir." Kinch's face broke into a grin as Newkirk absently moved over to make room for Carter who heaved himself up to sit on the upper bunk with him. The clumsy American missed his grab at the edge of the bunk and Newkirk's arm shot out to push Carter the rest of the way up onto the bunk safely. Neither of them seemed to even notice, both still paying attention to something in the letter held carefully in Newkirk's fingers.

As Carter began telling some story of Bullfrog, North Dakota that involved making cawing noises like a crow and waving his arms about, Hogan sighed and turned a contented look on Kinch. "Home sweet home, huh Kinch?" Heading to his office, Hogan spoke absently over one shoulder. "Keep an eye on the kids, Kinch?"

"Yes sir." Kinch's grin widened as LeBeau tried to get Newkirk to taste something. Seating himself at the table to watch the resulting theatrics, Kinch relaxed.

Things really were back to normal finally. Or, he mused, as close to what passed for normal in a POW camp in the heart of Germany that held a group of the oddest saboteurs, spies and troublemakers that ever lived.

He'd take it.

* * *

End

That's all folks! I hope it was pleasing and satisfying and huge thanks for all of you who stuck with it to the end. As always, special thanks to TinySprite.


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